Kicking and Screaming
by HiddenValor
Summary: While on a trading mission, Rodney McKay gets unknowingly caught in a relationship he never would have expected. McKayOC and LorneOC...a little McKay whumping too. Set in mid to late season 3, sometime before Sunday. Slight AU. R&R! Complete!
1. Makkedah

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings of Stargate Atlantis except for Korianka, Orthéus, Aram, and the Makkedahns.

A/N: This is my first Stargate Atlantis story, so please be honest but kind with the reviews.

XXxxXXx

A rush of uncomfortably warm air hit Rodney McKay as he stepped out of the event horizon. He made a face of disgust as the humid air entered his nose. "A bit muggy," he commented.

"Yeah, just a little," Sheppard replied sarcastically. "So, Teyla," he turned to the copper-haired woman standing next to him. "Anything especially important that we need to know about these people?"

Teyla shifted her gun to a more comfortable position on her hip. "They are called the Makkedahns, and their leader is Chieftain Aramianonisoro—"

"Come again?" Sheppard cocked an eyebrow. Ronon stood a few feet from them with his arms folded over his chest.

"If you would have let me finish," Teyla replied with a smirk. "I was going to say that he is called Lord Aram."

"Right, sorry."

"It is quite all right." Teyla began her trek through the tall grass field around the Stargate. There was a narrow path through the grass, presumably cut for trade purposes; there was a tree line a few dozen yards away. "We have traded some with these people. They put a lot of emphasis on independence and skill in battle, even for their women, but their crops are usually of good quality. We have also traded for their weapons—some of the best-made hunting and fighting tools that I know of."

Soon, the group arrived at the distant tree line of luscious green trees. Teyla looked back over her shoulder. "We are almost there."

"Almost where?" McKay asked, a little exasperated.

"The capitol city, Rodney—Athalia." Teyla replied with a slight smile.

XxXXxXX

"Teyla Emmagan!" A man in his late fifties approached Teyla with a wide grin on his lean face. His hair was dark brown, highlighted by several silver hairs around his temples. He sported a strong goatee and mustache—also highlighted with silver hair. Even though he was well on in years, his muscular build was quite evident and enhanced by the khaki-colored fabric of his billowing robe. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Aram," Teyla replied sweetly. She extended her hand, which Lord Aram heartily embraced. He turned to see the three men behind her.

"And who might your friends be?" he asked playfully.

Teyla gestured to each man as she introduced them. "This is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Doctor Rodney McKay, and Ronon Dex."

"What long names!" Aram declared. He waved it off. "No matter, long names are very common amongst the Makkedahns." He spread his arms wide as a welcoming gesture. "Come, I will give you the grand tour of my humble abode. This—as you may have guessed—is the main hall." He gestured widely around himself.

The main hall was not large, yet not small—comfortable would be the right word to describe it. The architecture was simple, yet elegant, and an odd combination of antiques and modern technology.

"The Makkedahns are not as advanced as you are," Teyla explained to Sheppard. "But they do incorporate their simple technology into their lives. Notice the automatic doors and the working clocks." She pointed to each one in turn.

"Indeed, Teyla," Aram interjected. "We choose to live somewhat simply, in order to keep the traditional beauty of our surroundings. Now, this way if you please." He led them through a set of double doors that looked to be wooden, but opened automatically and made a soft _whoosh_ as they closed behind them. "This is the main courtyard…"

XxXXXX

Rodney sighed with boredom and kicked at a random pebble in the dirt as he grudgingly followed Lord Aram into the courtyard. Two people were sparring nearby—a man and a young lady. The man caught her by the arm and flipped her over his shoulder with ease. She landed on her back in the dirt with a heavy thud. Rodney winced.

The woman got up with a grunt and swept her chestnut hair from her sweaty forehead, smearing dirt all over her face. She must be getting ready for something important to be training this hard. She nodded her head, and the pair went at it again. This time, the woman was ready for his attacks. She countered them and even managed to land a few blows of her own. She threw a right hook, but Lord Aram suddenly stepped between the two and blocked it with ease. The woman glared at him for a moment, and then backed down. Rodney sensed a bit of tension between them.

"Teyla, you remember my daughter Korianka?" Aram asked.

Teyla smiled and embraced the woman. "You have grown much since we last met, Korianka."

"And you have grown no less beautiful, Teyla," Korianka replied with a grin. "Please excuse my filth," she said and released herself from the hug. She dusted some dirt from the front of her brown tunic.

Rodney mused at Korianka's strange appearance. All the other princesses he had previously met did not wear plain clothes, and they certainly did not like to get dirty. This one seemed like she enjoyed getting her dirt under her fingernails (which, by the way, were jagged and bitten down; she must be a compulsive nail-biter) and grime on her face. The sleeves of her cream tunic were rolled up to her elbows, and her wrists were protected by a pair of leather gauntlets. Her leggings were dark brown and tucked into a pair of brown boots covering her calves. All of these, by the way, were covered with sweat stains and dirt. Even her brown hair frizzed slightly from the sweat seeping from the scalp.

"C'mon, McKay!" Sheppard exclaimed, pulling Rodney out of his musings. "I just burned you and you weren't even paying attention!"

Ronon leaned closer to Sheppard and whispered, "He was too busy 'analyzing' the princess." Sheppard barely suppressed a snicker. Teyla's face dropped all expression, but her eyes were full of amusement.

"What? Is this 'Burn McKay Day' or something? Jeez!" Rodney scowled and folded his arms across his chest.

Aram took this opportunity to interject, "Well, I will leave you to your training, Dear. You have a big day tomorrow." Satisfied with himself, Aram straightened his robes, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to walk away with the team in tow.

Why was tomorrow so important? Rodney did not even care at the moment. He trudged along behind the group, bored out of his mind, listening to Aram as he animatedly told them about Makkedah's colorful history. This was going to be a long day.

XxXxXXX

A/N: Wow, that was a long first chapter. Hopefully, I will actually finish this story; I have every intention of doing so, but I do apologize in advance if I don't update regularly. My schedule is somewhat erratic.

A/N (3/27/07): After a brief consultation with Madam BiteMeTechie, I have decided to go back through this story and give it some major revisions, mostly to lessen Korianka's Sue-ish-ness. Expect almost every chapter to have changes, and please feel free to provide honest but kind feedback. Thanks.


	2. First Glimpse

Rodney was bored. All this talk of agriculture and trade was so dull that it could put him to sleep. He and his team sat with Lord Aram around a small oaken table in a private room next to Aram's quarters. Rodney propped his head on one hand and sighed, not really trying to pay attention to Aram's ramblings. His eyes wandered all over the room and finally settled on a window that faced the main courtyard.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting pinkish-gold light all over the sky and making the grass of the courtyard turn a lovely shade of deep green. A weeping willow tree stood quietly in the very center of the courtyard, the hanging leaves slowly dancing in the breeze. There was a figure—a woman—standing near the tree; she had been moving so slowly that Rodney had not noticed her at first. He recognized her as the young woman—Aram's daughter— he had met earlier in the afternoon, but he couldn't remember her name; it was Korkina or something like that. She looked kind of pretty without all the dirt and grime. She wore a white shirt with no sleeves and loose brown pants that ended in the middle of her calves. Her feet were bare.

She moved slowly into several different postures; Rodney guessed it was some form of martial arts like Tai-chi. Every movement was controlled and full of power, and every posture had a certain air of beauty to it.

Her face seemed calm and gentle, but there was a slight furrow in her brow. Rodney wondered what she could be hiding behind that façade of serenity. He remembered Aram mentioning something about a tournament tomorrow—a tournament to find a suitor for her or something. A marriage to someone she didn't really know would certainly put a damper on things.

"McKay!"

Rodney almost jumped out of his seat. "What?" he asked quickly.

"I asked you what you thought of the agreement." Sheppard gave him a critical look. "But, obviously, you weren't paying attention...again."

"No matter," Lord Aram said. "I was just about to let you retire for the night. If it is all right, we will continue negotiations after the tournament tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lord Aram." Teyla stood and bowed her head slightly. The rest of the team followed suit. They left the room in single-file with Teyla in the front and Ronon in the rear. When they were out of ear-shot, Ronon whispered to Rodney in his rough baritone voice, "I wasn't paying attention either."

XXxxXxX

Lord Aram watched with a careful eye as Sheppard's team disappeared around a bend in the corridor. He stood at the head of the table with his hands gently folded behind his back. After a moment, he turned to the window behind him and gazed over the city. The largest building in Athalia was the Arena. It stood proudly in the center of the city, its two stories almost looming over the little shops in the marketplace nearby. Aram thought with glee about what would be taking place in that arena tomorrow. He had everything planned and taken care of—well, almost everything.

A soft set of footsteps and the quiet _whoosh_ of the automatic door told Aram that someone else was in the room with him. Without turning around, he addressed the other person. "I am glad you could make it, Marius." He looked over his shoulder to the barrel-chested man standing at the opposite end of the table. "I have a task for you."

XXxxXxX

"You could have at least _pretended_ to pay attention, Rodney!" Colonel Sheppard scolded as he stalked down the corridor. The candles that lit the corridor flickered as he walked past. His boots make a soft thump as they made contact with the stone floor.

"It's not my fault that diplomacy is boring," McKay shot back. "And don't pretend like it doesn't bore you either."

"Enough!" Teyla raised her voice slightly in exasperation. The two men shut their mouths immediately. Teyla softened her voice again. "Get some rest—all of you. And Rodney, please try to pay attention tomorrow." The automatic door to her own quarters opened for her. She said "Good night" and disappeared behind the door.

Rodney didn't wait for Ronon and Sheppard to enter their quarters before he entered his own; he didn't even bid them good night. He took off his vest, deposited it on a red velvet-cushioned armchair and fell backward onto his bed, reveling in the comfortable down mattress. Despite the comfort of his quarters, however, he couldn't sleep. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, making note of every bump and crack in the arched wooden beams.

He couldn't wait to go back to Atlantis. From the moment he left their briefing for this mission, he knew it was going to be dull. The Makkedahns—while rather nice people—seemed too simple for his interest. Oh sure, they had automatic doors and clocks and probably firearms, but Rodney had yet to see anything that really peaked his interest…except for the woman he saw earlier that evening; he still couldn't remember her name. _She's way out of your league, Rodney_, a voice told him. "And besides," he said out loud, not really caring if anyone heard him. "I'll only be here for a day or so. There's really no point in getting attached. I'm too important and busy." But something inside him told him that that was a pretty lame excuse.

Rodney almost fell out of bed when a loud rap on his door pulled him away from his thoughts. In fact, his feet got tangled in the sheets and he hit the floor with a loud _thud_. There was a second and more insistent knock. "Gimme a minute wouldja?" He snapped, desperately trying to extricate himself from the sheets. When he finally did get to his door, he opened it, assuming it was Sheppard. "What could you possibly wa—" He was cut short by a painful blow to his face; his world suddenly went black.

XXxXXxX

A/N: Sorry it's kinda short. Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I want to apologize if my OC got a little too Mary-Sueish in this chapter. I'm trying really, really hard not to make her a Mary-Sue. Hope you're excited about the next chapter, cuz I am excited about writing it. 

A/N (3/28/07): I revised this chapter a little, in case you didn't notice. I think now Rodney isn't drooling over her good looks that much anymore…I hope.


	3. The Guardian

"Good morning, John," Teyla greeted as she stood in the doorway to Colonel Sheppard's quarters; he was still in bed, snoring softly. Teyla walked to his bedside and gently shook his shoulder. He awoke with a start. Teyla laughed. "Good morning, John."

"'Mornin' Teyla," he replied groggily. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up.

"I just wished to let you know that I will be going to the arena this morning to see the tournament."

"Okay," Sheppard replied. "You go ahead. I'll go check in with Atlantis and then I'll head over there. Where's the arena anyway?"

"It's the large building in the center of the city. It should not be difficult to find."

XXxXxX

"How are you enjoying your stay, Teyla?" Lord Aram asked pleasantly. He sat on a caramel-colored horse en route to the arena; Teyla rode on his left side and his son Orthéus rode on his right. From what Teyla could remember, Orthéus was the younger child of Aram, but bore the most resemblance to his father. He sported a medium-length hairstyle in dark brown with a matching goatee and mustache. His face was square and set like Aram's. His robes were a mix of cream and gold.

"Your gracious hospitality has never been better, Lord Aram," Teyla replied and gently petted her chestnut-colored horse.

"I am glad to hear it." Aram unconsciously swept dust off of his blue robe. "Ah, here we are." The arena loomed above them. It was a circular stone and wooden building, almost like the Roman Colosseum, but not as massive. There were several small archways lining the bottom of the building—presumably entrances.

Lord Aram dismounted and handed his horse over to a stableman; Teyla and Orthéus did the same. Aram led them through an archway on the far left; it was connected to a flight of spiral stairs that led to his private viewing box. It was rather dark in the staircase, despite the random slits in the stone that passed for windows. A slight musty smell touched Teyla's nose as she climbed the staircase; she found herself a little relieved when she reached the viewing box.

The actual box was merely a stone balcony with a tent over the top of it to block the sun. Teyla could see the entire arena from this vantage point. The tiered seats were beginning to fill up with people eager to see the tournament.

There were five velvet-cushioned marble chairs spanning the length of the box. The middle one was raised slightly above the others; this was Aram's chair. Aram got comfortable in his chair and gestured for Teyla to sit in the chair on his right. "You may sit here, Teyla. This was my wife's seat; may she rest in peace."

"If I may ask," Teyla said softly. "When did she die?"

A ghost of a smile played on Aram's lips. His eyes began to sparkle as he thought of his wife. "Iliana died only three years ago."

"I am sorry," Teyla lamented.

"Do not be," Aram replied. "You have naught to be sorry for." The clear ringing of a trumpet sliced through the air. "Ah, the tournament is about to begin."

Teyla leaned out and saw that Korianka's seat next to Orthéus was empty. "Where is Korianka?" Teyla asked, a little suspicion growing in her mind. "Should she not be here for this?"

"She will be here," Aram replied flatly. He stood up and leaned against the edge of the balcony. "People of Makkedah!" He shouted. "Today you will witness the ultimate battle—the battle for a woman's love. Challengers from all over Makkedah have come, hoping to prove their worth as a warrior and a husband. And should one of these fine men triumph in this battle, that man will be given the hand of my daughter, Princess Korianka!" The deafening roar of the crowd filled the arena as Aram swept his hands to the door of the box. Korianka stood there, dressed in a peach robe, her hair pinned back in ringlets. She went to the edge of the box and bowed before sitting in her chair next to Orthéus.

Teyla had this sinking feeling in her stomach that something wasn't right. The Korianka that sat in that chair didn't seem…real. Teyla furrowed her brow, but couldn't seem to put her finger on what her real reservations were. She sat back in her chair and tried to focus her attention on the arena.

A tall and muscular bald man sauntered into the arena. He turned to the Chieftain's viewing box and bowed low. He was dressed in a light brown tunic and a partial suit of leather armor.

One of Aram's servants stepped up to the right-hand corner of the viewing box, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted, "Introducing the Guardian!" The crowd roared and applauded wildly. "And the first Challenger," the servant shouted again. "Amnon of Athalia!" A smaller man entered the arena from a door on the opposite side. He was dressed similarly as the Guardian, but he had sandy blonde hair and a darker tunic. He turned to the viewing box and bowed as well. "Let the battle commence!" said the herald.

Teyla leaned toward Lord Aram and asked, "What is the purpose of the Guardian?"

Aram replied, "In a symbolic sense, the Guardian 'guards' the princess's chastity and honor against a hopeful suitor—he is called the Challenger. The Challenger 'challenges' the Guardian's ability to protect the princess's honor. If the Challenger defeats the Guardian in single combat, he is worthy to marry the princess and in doing so, becomes her Guardian."

"Ah, I see."

"However," Aram continued. "There have been some instances where the princess herself was the Guardian." A small smirk started to form on his face.

Teyla leaned to look at Korianka and was about to make a comment, but there was a sudden disturbance near the entrance to the box. Both Aram and Teyla stood up as Ronon shoved a guard into the stone wall next to him and burst into the box.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aram exclaimed angrily, his dark eyes flashing.

"We've got a problem, Teyla," Ronon looked at Aram with fierce eyes. "McKay's missing."

XXxXxX

"And the victor is the Guardian!"

Four men came into the arena carrying a stretcher. They placed an unconscious Amnon onto the stretcher and carried him out of the arena. The Guardian bowed low to the box and exited the arena for the five-minute recess in-between fights. He stalked through the arched doorway and through a short corridor that led to a small room. There he was met by a red-haired woman in a simple gray dress holding a damp cloth and a glass of water. He drank the water gratefully and wiped the sweat from his head using the cool cloth.

"Thank you, Alaina," He said in a deep voice.

"It is my pleasure, Your Highness," Alaina replied. She took back the empty glass and the cloth and set them aside. There was a wooden cart nearby with an assortment of glass vials and syringes. Alaina filled a syringe with a clear liquid from one of the vials and brought it to the Guardian.

"Another injection?" he asked, his voice slightly dropping in timbre. He could feel his muscles getting a little smaller, and a thin film of brown hair began sprouting on his head.

"Yes, Highness," Alaina replied as she injected the serum into the Guardian's arm. "This serum will help you to maintain your disguise. It will only last for so long between injections." The trumpets began to ring again outside. "Now you must go for your next battle."

The Guardian stood up and stretched. After a nod to Alaina, he sauntered out of the room. Alaina put the syringe back in its place and prepared another. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist and a strong scent of sweat permeated the air around her. Alaina jumped and put a hand to her chest. "Oh, my," she gasped in surprise.

"Hello, Alaina," whispered a man's voice behind her.

"You almost made my heart stop, Marius," Alaina turned to face him with his arms still wrapped around her waist. She kissed him softly on the lips and stroked his stubbly beard. "What brings you here?"

"Unfortunately, my dear, I'm here on royal business," Marius lamented.

Alaina pulled away from him. "I knew it," she said, scoffing. She brushed some stray red hairs away from her face and folded her arms across her chest. She glared at him for a few moments and then sighed, "What do you want?"

Marius pulled a small vial out of the inside of his leather vest and placed it in Alaina's hand. Alaina furrowed her brow slightly. "Make sure that the next challenger wins." Marius bowed low and made his exit, leaving Alaina standing there holding the vial with a dumbstruck expression on her face. She looked at the vial and her expression became more resolute. She picked up another glass of water from a lower shelf on the wooden cart and carefully let two drops of the liquid in the vial mix with the water. Sighing heavily, she put the vial into the bodice of her gown and sat down with a huff.


	4. In the Arena

Rodney had a massive headache—like someone had bludgeoned him with a sledge hammer…well, maybe not that massive. An odor filled his nose that was so pungent that it was all he could do to keep from sneezing. He sat up and groaned, gently rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A strange site met his gaze when he finally opened them. He was in some kind of…dugout—with a dirt floor and everything. There were men everywhere; the room reeked of sweat and testosterone. There were big men, small men, brawny men, and even very skinny men. Rodney didn't quite know what to make of it all. He jumped when a deep voice on his left started speaking to him.

"It's good that you are awake now."

"What?" Rodney turned to the man; his skin very dark, almost black, and his bald head glistened with a light sweat. He was fastening his leather armor to his brown tunic. "Oh, yeah—sure," Rodney stammered.

"I am Issachar," the man said. His voice was a deep and mellow bass. "Who might you be?"

"I'm—um—Rodney McKay," Rodney replied, still quite confused. "Where am I?"

Issachar laughed heartily and looked at Rodney like he was dumb. "What do you mean? How can you not know where you are?"

"Well, the last thing I remember is getting slugged in the face," Rodney snapped. "It's kinda hard to know where you are when you're unconscious."

Issachar feigned embarrassment, "Oh, my apologies, Lantean." He chuckled to himself.

"Hey, that's not funny," Rodney muttered. "For your information, I have a huge migraine." He gently rubbed his temples. "And you still haven't answered my question."

"You're in the arena, Rodney McKay," Issachar replied. He stood and began stretching against the stone wall. "And if you want to fight properly, you might want to put on some protection." He pointed to a pile of leather armor pieces.

"Wait a minute," Rodney quickly stood and held his hands in front of him. "No one said anything about fighting. There is no way you can get me out there."

"I won't be the one to 'get you out there'." Issachar gestured toward a tall bare-chested guard on the left end of the dugout. Rodney's eyes widened like saucers at the sight of the guard's massive muscles. "He is."

XXxXxX

"What do you mean, Ronon?" Teyla lowered her voice and slit her eyes.

"He's not in his room and I can't find him anywhere," Ronon replied, keeping his eyes fixed on Aram. "I heard a lot of strange noises coming from his room last night." He cocked his head to side. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, Lord Aram?" he virtually spat every word.

Instead of cowering under Ronon's gaze, Aram smirked. "It's possible." Teyla barely had time to react when Ronon pulled out his gun, launched himself at Aram, and wrapped a hand around Aram's throat. She vaguely noticed Orthéus standing up and going to his father's side.

"Ronon!" Teyla shouted. She positioned herself between Ronon and Aram and placed a gentle hand on Ronon's arm. She gave him a look, telling him to calm down, and then turned her attention toward Aram. "Where is Doctor McKay?" she asked coldly. A sudden movement behind Orthéus caught her attention; it was Korianka, but she hadn't moved—she…flickered. In fact, she hadn't moved or spoken ever since she arrived. Teyla went over to her and tried to put her hand on her shoulder, but her hand passed right through Korianka; it was a hologram. Teyla shot an icy glare back at Aram. "And where is Korianka?"

"Introducing Rodney McKay, the Lantean!" the announcer shouted. Teyla's eyes almost doubled in size as she watched Rodney stumble into the arena, looking rather odd in his SGA uniform and leather armor.

XXxXxX

_A Lantean?_ _What in the name of the gods is a Lantean doing in the tournament?_ The Guardian folded his arms across his large chest, still unbelieving; but when the Lantean entered—staggered, rather, into the arena, he could hardly keep himself from laughing. _This is going to be a short battle_, he thought with a smirk. "Pick up your weapon!" he shouted to the Lantean. The Lantean smiled half-heartedly and scanned the assortment of weapons scattered on the arena floor. He picked up a club, but fell backward when he tried to hoist it onto his shoulder. This time, the Guardian had to hold his belly to keep from falling over from laughter. "Whatever suits you, Lantean!" he shouted and picked up his broadsword.

"Let the battle commence!" the announcer shouted. The Lantean picked himself up from the ground and dusted himself off.

The Guardian fell into a fighting stance and circled around the Lantean. Every so often, he would jump at the Lantean, just to scare him. The crowd laughed and cheered as the Lantean would take a small step away from his opponent. The Guardian laughed to himself, but suddenly felt a little tired. He shook his head violently to keep himself awake. He advanced on the Lantean and whacked him on the shoulder with the flat side of his blade; the Lantean made a sound that resembled a squeal. The Guardian swung his sword at the Lantean's gut, but he stepped back at the last second.

The Lantean finally got a little bolder and swung his club, but the Guardian ducked and caught the club when he swung it a second time. He wrenched the club out of the Lantean's hand and threw it away from him. At a sudden loss for what to do, the Lantean retreated a few steps.

The Guardian advanced, sword readied, but his vision began to blur. He blinked several times and advanced a few more steps. The Lantean noticed his hesitation and retreated a few more steps. The Guardian swung his sword clumsily, his vision blurring and fading. Fatigue was setting in his muscles and his whole body began to ache. A sudden sharp pain wracked through his head as the Lantean's fist connected with his jaw. He staggered back, feeling his consciousness slipping from him. The Lantean hit him again, this time renting open the skin of his cheekbone. Warm blood trickled down his cheek and neck. He fell to his knees and collapsed when the Lantean struck him one last time.

XXxXxX

"And the victor is Rodney McKay the Lantean!"

An eerie silence fell over the crowd. Adrenaline coursed through Rodney's veins, causing him to pant heavily. He wiped the sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked at his fallen opponent with unbelieving eyes—he had won.

Rodney was so perplexed by his situation that he barely noticed the Guardian being carried away on a stretcher. He looked at his hands, bruised and scraped from the fight. He gently clenched and unclenched his hands into loose fists, still quite shocked. The crowd began to applaud, but he didn't seem to notice.

XXxXxX

Teyla sprinted to Rodney and caught him by the shoulders. "Rodney," she said. When he didn't respond, she shook him gently. "Rodney." He turned a pair of bewildered eyes to her. "Are you all right, Rodney?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly. "I think."

"Come," Teyla gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let us go. You need to rest yourself." Rodney nodded numbly.

"Rodney McKay!" Aram's voice boomed from the viewing box. Rodney didn't seem to be paying attention. "You have proven yourself worthy in battle. Rest yourself now, for tomorrow you and Princess Korianka will finally be wed!"

The crowd cheered and hollered, but that's not what caught Rodney's attention. He suddenly straightened and furrowed his brow. "What?!?"


	5. The Morning After

John Sheppard was shocked and furious—mostly shocked. Who in their right mind would want Rodney McKay as a son-in-law, or any relative for that matter? A small part of him was slightly jealous, but that jealousy never got the chance to surface because of the circumstances. He stormed into Aram's quarters, his whole team in tow, and picked Aram up by his lapels. "Aram, you son of a—"

"Now, now, Colonel Sheppard," Aram interrupted with a smooth voice. "There's no need for name-calling."

Sheppard tightened his grip. "There is when you kidnap a member of my team!" He snapped. His anger was seething inside of him. No one screws with his team, no matter how much of a pain one of them could be.

"Yeah!" Rodney interjected. "I _still_ have a massive headache!"

"Who said anything about kidnapping?" Aram replied, his voice betraying no fear. There was a smirk forming around his mouth and his eyes sparkled mischievously. His cockiness made John even angrier. "I certainly had nothing to do with it."

"That's not what you told me," Ronon bellowed. He stood a few feet behind Sheppard and pointed his gun directly at Aram's head.

"That's enough!" Teyla shouted. "John, put Aram down." John looked at Teyla with a bitter expression on his face, but complied. Aram straightened the front of his robe and nodded to Teyla.

"Thank you, Teyla."

"I did not do it for you, Aram," Teyla snapped. John noticed a sudden spark of anger in her eyes, but it passed quickly. He always admired Teyla's self-control. "Now, we will take our leave. Do not expect to hear from us again." She turned her back to Aram and made her way to the door.

John patted Ronon on the shoulder. "Let's go, Ronon," he urged. After a moment, Ronon snarled slightly and lowered his weapon. John grabbed McKay by the shoulder and began to drag him to the door. McKay jerked his arm away. "I'm coming," he snapped.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Aram declared. Several guards positioned themselves in front of the door, blocking the team's exit. John spun around and glared at Aram. "Rodney McKay will marry Korianka _tomorrow_," Aram turned a malevolent gaze to McKay and smirked. "whether he wishes it or not."

XXxXxX The next morning…

A sudden warmth roused Korianka from her long sleep. She opened her eyes, only to snap them shut again when the morning sunlight stung them. She sat up slowly, gently rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She winced when her finger brushed against a gash along her left cheekbone.

"Let me tend to that, Highness," Alaina's strong voice said to her. Alaina, damp cloth and salve in hand, sat on Korianka's bedside and began dabbing the salve onto the gash. Korianka took in a sharp breath at the coldness of the salve. "Just relax, Highness," Alaina reassured her. "The wound is not deep. It will heal quickly."

"What happened, Alaina?" Korianka asked. "Why am I here instead of in the arena?"

Alaina said nothing.

Korianka narrowed her eyes at her maidservant. Alaina's face was unusually void of expression and her movements seemed forced. She sighed and finished cleaning Korianka's wound. "Alaina, answer me," Korianka commanded. Alaina stood and turned her back to Korianka. If any other servant had done that without Korianka's permission, he or she would have severely reprimanded, but Alaina was different. Korianka always counted Alaina as a close friend, second only to Orthéus. Alaina was much like Teyla—a strong woman with a humble heart. After a moment, she spun around and wore a more resolute expression.

"If I may speak candidly, Highness," she replied firmly. "You lost."

Korianka laughed. "Have you gone mad?" she asked. "There's no way I would have lost only one day into the tournament!"

Alaina's already fiery hair seemed to grow a brighter shade of red. "I speak the truth, Highness," she snapped. She quickly gathered the cloth and salve into her white apron, her cheeks growing redder by the second. Korianka had never seen Alaina this upset. Something must have been deeply troubling her to make her act this way. "It would do you well to be a bit more humble in the future, Highness." She moved toward the door, suddenly regretting what she had just said; the princess has been known to have a violent temper.

Korianka threw the sheets off aside and stood. Anger boiled within her belly, threatening to explode. She stared at Alaina for a few moments, noticing the fear creeping into her eyes. _Not today_, whispered a small voice inside her. _Restrain yourself. Don't let your pride take you farther than you wish to go. _Korianka took a deep breath and pointed toward the door. "Go," she commanded. Alaina curtsied and scurried out the door. The door closed behind her with a soft _whoosh_. Korianka let out a breath and pushed this incident from her thoughts.

Realizing that she was still in a brown tunic, she changed into a loose blue gown. The soft cotton felt nice against her skin, a stark contrast to that scratchy tunic. Korianka was quite glad that she would probably never have to wear it again.

Her body ached all over, especially her head. _So this is what it feels like to get punched_. She gently massaged her temples and sat back down onto her bed, reveling in its comfortable softness.

How could she have lost? All that training gone to waste…in one day? Korianka searched deep within her memory in an attempt to piece together what went wrong. Vague images surfaced—images of someone holding a club, but she couldn't make out the man's face. She remembered taking a drink of water that tasted odd, but she immediately dismissed it. Frustration swam through her thoughts, causing her to throw up her hands and storm out of her quarters. She needed answers, and Aram was the one who could give them to her.

XXxXxX

Prince Orthéus calmly strolled down the stone corridor leading to his quarters, the events of yesterday heavy on his mind. He still could not bear the thought that his sister was to be wed that very evening. A significant part of him was glad that she was marrying a Lantean, for they were a mighty race; their children would be strong. However, there was a smaller part of him that ached. Ever since their mother's death, Orthéus and Korianka became very close; she confided in him when she felt there was no one else she could talk to. He was jealous of the man that would gain that kind of intimacy through this union.

A series of rapid footfalls pulled Orthéus from his thoughts. They were coming from an intersecting corridor on his right. Korianka came into view, walking quickly toward him with an expression that made her facial features look unnaturally sharp. "Good morning, Korianka," Orthéus greeted. "I see that you are feeling better."

"Not now, brother," Korianka replied shortly. "I have some questions to ask of Father." She brushed past him to continue down the corridor, but Orthéus caught her by the arm.

"Father is busy. Maybe I could answer your questions," Orthéus said softly. Korianka lifted an eyebrow.

"Maybe," she replied just as softy. The sharpness in her face softened, and a small smile graced her lips. Orthéus released her and opened his palms in a welcoming gesture. Korianka planted her hands on her hips. "Who defeated the Guardian in the tournament?"

Orthéus chuckled. "You were there," he replied. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

A slight furrow formed in Korianka's graceful brows. "I can't seem to remember much of anything of yesterday." She folded her arms across her chest in thought. The long belled sleeves of her blue gown bunched at her elbows and hung gracefully at her sides. Her chestnut hair lay freely on her shoulders, framing her face.

"In that case," Orthéus replied. "You might be interested to know that one of our Lantean guests, Doctor McKay, defeated y—the Guardian yesterday."

The sharpness quickly returned to her face. "Do not jest with me, Brother." Her green eyes flashed.

"It is no jest, Sister." Orthéus folded his arms over his chest and looked Korianka straight in the eyes. "Would I possibly lie to you about a matter such as this?"

"I suppose not," Korianka replied quietly.

XXxXxX

How could this have happened? From what Korianka remembered of her first meeting with Doctor McKay, his physical appearance would not suggest a warrior capable of defeating the Guardian. Stranger things have happened in the past, but this event seemed highly unlikely. Maybe talking to this Doctor McKay would make this enigma a little clearer. "Thank you, Orthéus," Korianka bowed slightly and doubled back down the corridor she had just come from, leaving her brother behind her.

Korianka stalked through the corridors, seemingly turning corners at random. She soon found herself standing in front of Doctor McKay's quarters. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. "Doctor McKay," she called through the door. "It's Korianka. I need to speak with you." No answer. Korianka punched in an override code on the keypad next to the door and the door swung open. She could have done so in the first place, but she had the decency to protect a guest's privacy by not barging in. It would not have mattered, however, for McKay's room was empty. Not even his personal effects were there. There was no evidence to suggest that anyone had stayed in this room recently.

Korianka checked the other three rooms and found the same thing. She considered the possibility that she had gone to the wrong rooms, but she knew this manor from the remains of a bird's nest in a ceiling beam to the creaky floorboard in the study; for her, getting lost in here was highly improbable. _Something is going on,_ she concluded. _And I am going to find out what it is._ She stalked through the corridors again, but a sudden iron grip held her fast. Korianka whipped around and faced the stern gaze of Alaina.

"It's time to begin preparing for the wedding, Highness," Alaina said and began pulling Korianka back to her chambers. "We have much to do before this evening."


	6. I Do's and Dont's

A/N: I am really excited about writing the following chapters…Thanks so much for the encouraging reviews!

XXxXxX

Rodney tried his best to stifle a laugh as the seamstresses' hands darted all over his body, taking his measurements and fitting him into his dressrobe; he had no idea he was this ticklish. He finally threw his hands in front of him in protest, desperately trying to protect his own personal space. The seamstresses would have none of it, however; they continued to pin the fabric, pricking him with a pin every so often. How long this went on, Rodney had no idea; he seemed to have misplaced his watch. He bit his lip to keep from laughing again as a seamstress worked on his right side.

_What am I doing?_ Rodney thought suddenly. _I need to figure a way out of here. _For once, a situation like this wasn't really his fault. _Look on the bright side, McKay,_ he could hear Sheppard saying in his head. _At least you get the girl._ Ha! Two points for Rodney McKay! The thought made him snicker. He would be the ladies' man this time, not Sheppard.

Honestly, he didn't plan on settling any time soon, however, and this certainly was not what he had envisioned for his wedding day. For one thing, Samantha Carter would be the bride; not that he didn't like Princess What's-her-face, but he would have rather been marrying Samantha. _Just pretend that she's Sam,_ suggested a small voice in the back of his mind. _Fat chance, _he replied. This conversation was beginning to remind him of the time Lieutenant Cadman was stuck in his head. _She looks nothing like her— she's pretty, but still not Sam. _He sighed in slight disgust and unconsciously put a frown on his face.

"Smile, Doctor McKay," said a smooth voice, pulling Rodney from his musings. It was Aram. He waltzed into the little room and stood before Rodney, arms gently folded behind his back. He was dressed in a shimmering gold dress robe that billowed behind him as he moved. "It's your wedding day." There was a slight smirk forming around his newly-trimmed goatee. Rodney seethed and narrowed his eyes.

"Whatever you're planning, pal," he replied through gritted teeth. "It's not going to work."

"For someone so intelligent, you really have no idea what is going on." Aram cocked an eyebrow and sported a larger smirk. The dark look in his eyes made Rodney's spine tingle. His face suddenly grew serious. "Here is what will take place: once your robe is finished, I will have you escorted to the Hall of the Chieftains; that is where the ceremony will commence. After the ceremony, you and Korianka will attend the private reception in the main dining hall. Your friends will also be allowed to attend." A spark jumped into his eyes, but then receded. Rodney began to wonder what this man was planning—nothing good, no doubt. "They will not, however, be allowed to attend the ceremony."

"But—" Rodney tried to interject.

"I have spoken." Aram declared firmly and calmly. He turned to leave the room, his robe billowing behind him. "I will send for you shortly."

XXxXXx

After several hours of standing on a wooden stool acting as a human pin-cushion, Rodney was finally summoned to the Hall of the Chieftains, itching in the uncomfortable fabric all the way there. The escort, a dark-haired man in his early forties, cast Rodney a few reproving glances whenever Rodney so much as scratched his nose. Rodney didn't like the haughty look in his eyes whenever he looked back over his powerful shoulder.

Other the scratchiness the fabric, Rodney's wedding robe was nice; under different circumstances, he probably would have liked the design. It was long like Aram's, though it didn't billow behind him as much. The main fabric was a lovely cream color, and the over-piece was deep crimson; it was the only part of the robe that shimmered. At the moment, however, Rodney didn't seem to notice; he was too preoccupied with finding a way out of this mess. _Maybe I can find something blunt to whack this guy with_, Rodney mused, his eyes searching all over the corridors for a useful instrument, but finding none. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed in irritation. His escort looked over his shoulder again and snorted a laugh. Rodney glared at him behind his back.

"What's so funny?" he asked, annoyed. The escort didn't reply. Rodney glared again and turned his attention back to his escape; there was no way he could let himself go through with this marriage. In reality, he didn't have much of a choice—marry her or die. Yeah, what a great alternative. He could imagine Elizabeth's reaction if he returned to Atlantis with a wife; he almost laughed at the image of Elizabeth's unbelieving expression.

Rodney's amusement was replaced with awe as he entered the Hall of the Chieftains. It was a rather large room with a vaulted ceiling and a very ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Paintings of previous Makkedahn chieftains lined all of the walls, and some paintings were accompanied by an artifact that belonged to that chieftain. The room was filled with wooden benches—full of people, of course—cushioned with red velvet and arranged in a circular pattern with three main aisles—much like that of an amphitheater, except without the tiers. There was a small circular stage raised a few inches that the benches encircled; Aram stood on that stage. He dismissed the escort and beckoned Rodney forward; Rodney grudgingly complied.

Standing next to the Chieftain, Rodney suddenly felt small compared to Aram's stature and build. All thoughts of escape left his mind as acute fear began shoving its way into his brain. This man was clever and strong; he could certainly fulfill any threat he made. Rodney stood next to him in silence, trying his best to figure out how he was going to explain this to Elizabeth.

The room suddenly fell into a hush. Soft music began to play from an unidentifiable string instrument (probably a tarahn—the Makkedahn version of a harp, but Rodney couldn't know that). The large double doors leading into the Hall slowly swung open, revealing Princess Korianka in her wedding garb.

As much as Rodney disliked the situation, he had to admit that the princess looked rather lovely. Her gown was similar in design to Rodney's dress robe, but the sleeves were longer and the overpiece was peach. The neckline was also lower to make it distinctly feminine. Her brown hair was curled in ringlets and pinned on top of her head; a few tendrils hung down around her neck and shoulders. Despite her radiance, however, her face showed no expression; she probably disliked the situation as much as Rodney did, maybe more. Rodney couldn't blame her.

The princess slowly moved down the aisle, her light footfalls barely making any sound. Her gown gently billowed behind her. She stopped next to Rodney, but did not look at him or even turn to him; she faced Aram as he began the ceremony. Rodney noticed a little shadow of indignation cross her face, but it passed as soon as it surfaced. He turned to face Aram.

Aram lifted both of his arms and put a wide grin on his face. "Citizens of Makkedah—my brethren—today you will witness the joining of my daughter, Princess Korianka, to Rodney McKay, a mighty warrior from Lantea, for he was the only man strong enough to defeat the Guardian in single combat." His eyes swept across the crowd and across Rodney as he said this; he looked oddly amused. Rodney noticed the princess shift uncomfortably next to him.

_I wish Sheppard would hurry and come up with something,_ Rodney thought irritably. Colonel Sheppard did have a knack for getting out of sticky situations; Rodney had to admit that much.

Aram lowered his hands and turned to Orthéus on his right; Rodney hadn't noticed him there. "My son," Aram said. "If you would please hand me the wedding bands." Orthéus passed him a red velvet pillow on which two bracelets lay. One was gold and the other was silver. "Rodney, take the silver band and put in on Korianka's hand."

Rodney complied, slowly sliding the bracelet over the princess's wrist; he also put a ring band that was connected to the bracelet by a silver chain on her left ring finger. He made eye contact with Korianka and tried to smile. She attempted the same, but both their smiles quickly faded. "Do you, Rodney, accept your responsibilities as Korianka's husband—to protect, love, and honor your wife—for the rest of your natural life?"

Rodney took a quick breath and quickly scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of escape. Finding none, he gulped and croaked, "I do."

XXxXxX

"And do you, Princess Korianka, accept your responsibilities as Rodney's wife—to respect, love, and guide your husband—for the rest of your natural life?"

Bitterness seethed in Korianka's heart. _No! I do not!_ She wanted to scream, but there was no escape. It was her duty as princess to marry a deserving husband; her real father would have wanted her to do so. She wished he could be here now, overseeing the ceremony as all Chieftains did for their daughters.

Korianka looked McKay directly in the eye, seeing his bitterness and resignation as well, and said, "I do."

XXxXXX

A/N: I just realized that this part of the story reminds me of the 2000 movie _Jason and the Argonauts. _Warrior from faraway land marries princess; prince is jealous; king is conniving. Watch the movie and you'll probably catch my drift.


	7. Dirty Dancing

A/N: Wow…long time no see. I've decided to try to pick up this story again, so here's a new chapter. I do apologize for keeping you guys waiting for so long.

XXXxxxxxX

Korianka waited patiently behind the curtain. She unconsciously fumbled with one of the tassels on her costume, anxious for her cue. She found herself unusually nervous, especially under the circumstances. It was not that she was not prepared; she had been training for this most her life, along with her combat training. She inconspicuously peeked around the velvet curtain and scanned the room. It was one of the more private dining halls reserved for such an occasion as this.

Korianka noted the key members of the audience. Aram chatted with a few of his counselors in the north corner of the room; Orthéus was with him. McKay sat at one of the few tables, trying to ignore one of the courtiers who was making horrible small talk The male courtier gestured wildly around himself as he talked, almost accidentally striking Dr. McKay a few times. Colonel Sheppard and his team entered the room—flanked by guards, of course—and joined Dr. McKay. Smiles were shared between them, but only for a moment. Their faces became grave, though Korianka could not rightly guess why. Well, McKay certainly would not be allowed to leave Makkedah; that could always put a damper on things.

She shared their feelings. At that moment, however, all thoughts left her as her music began to play; that was her cue. She raised her arms above her head in a veronic arm position, letting the sheer emerald veil drape over her torso and took a deep breath to calm herself as the curtain slowly glided to one side.

XXxXxxx

Rodney's jaw dropped when the curtain in front of the south wall was drawn aside. Princess Korianka stood there, dressed in what looked like a belly-dancer's costume—exposed stomach, long layers of sheer green fabrics, and gold ornaments making tiny clinking sounds. Several thousand naughty thoughts breezed through Rodney's mind; he blushed as he tried to squelch them. Technically, though, this woman was his wife; he could have dirty thoughts about her if he wanted to do so.

Sheppard waved a hand in front of his face. "Stop ogling the Princess for a sec and listen to me, Rodney!" Sheppard said urgently, jerking Rodney's attention away from his wife.

"Oh, sorry," Rodney muttered. "What were we talking about?" He saw Teyla roll her eyes and shake her head.

Sheppard leaned closer to Rodney so he could whisper, "We got to get outta here."

"C'mon, Sheppard," Rodney whined sarcastically. "It's my wedding night."

"We all now how much you really wanna get laid," Sheppard retorted. "but this is more important."

Rodney soured. "Fine," he snapped. He had to admit, though, escaping did seem to be a desirable option.

Unfortunately, Fate had it in for them that night. The courtier that had been pestering Rodney earlier in the evening removed himself from his vantage point at a nearby table and inconspicuously sauntered to Aram. He whispered into Aram's ear; Aram smiled wickedly and nodded to excuse the courtier. Aram beckoned some guards to him and approached Sheppard's team.

"Colonel Sheppard," he said. The guards closed in on the team. Colonel Sheppard did not turn around, keeping his back to Aram. Rodney saw Korianka's expression sour and her focus falter when she saw the guards. "You and your team are under arrest for conspiring to assassinate the Princess Korianka."

"What?" Rodney exclaimed and tore his gaze from Korianka to look at Aram. Each guard took a firm hold of each team member and forced them all to stand. "You've got to be kidding!"

"Only goats kid, Dr. McKay," Aram replied spitefully. He seemed to be taking some sort of twisted pleasure out of this, and Rodney despised that—despised him. He despised Aram from the very beginning of this whole mess. Aram gestured toward a stunned Korianka, who had ceased dancing and stood with her mouth agape, and two more guards went to her and held her firmly by the arms.

"What is the meaning of this?" she exclaimed angrily. "Unhand me!" She struggled between the two guards, but they held her fast.

"It is for your own safety, Daughter," Aram replied. "Escort the princess to her quarters," he instructed the guards. "And keep her there until morning."

As the guards led her away, Korianka shot Rodney an accusing glance; she almost looked…hurt. Rodney pleaded with his eyes and shook his head emphatically, trying desperately to convince her not to believe Aram's lies. "I would never—" he tried to say, but the guard holding him cuffed him abruptly upside the back of his head. Rodney turned around and glared at the guard, but the guard took no notice.

"As for the rest of you," Aram continued after Korianka was out of earshot. "You will remain in the dungeon to await your execution."

Rodney gulped.

XxXXxX

A/N (3/28/07): There now…that's a little better after getting rid of some of the sappy parts of this chapter. I'm on a roll today!


	8. Moment of Truth

A/N: Here comes the moment of truth.

XXxXxXXx

Korianka paced angrily in her bedchambers. She still wore her costume, but she had pulled her hair back into a low ponytail that swished behind her as she paced. Two guards had been posted in front of her bedroom door to keep her from leaving. _I don't need guards, _she told herself._ I can take care of myself._

And yet, she was defeated in the tournament. She still did not understand how she could have lost. She had trained her entire life for that tournament. It was supposed to last for one week, and she was defeated on the first day! This thought made her sick with anger. She scowled and folded her arms over her chest.

She despised herself for losing the tournament. She despised Aram manipulating her. She despised McKay for defeating her.

McKay.

Korianka stopped pacing. She remembered the desperate pleading look in his eyes as she was being led away. For some reason, that look pierced her to the heart, and her heart told her that the charges against him and his team were false. What would they hope to gain by killing her? Orthéus would become Chieftain instead of her, but that would be no great loss. Orthéus would make a fine Chieftain, given the opportunity, and he certainly would not stoop so low as to assassinate his own sister in order to create the opportunity. Someone else was out to get her; she was not sure who it was, but she was sure that McKay, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronan needed to get off of Makkedah as quickly as possible.

After quickly forming a plan in her mind, Korianka screamed so the guards would hear and collapsed on the floor in a heap. The guards rushed in a moment later and knelt next to her. "Princess," one of them said. "Are you all right?" Korianka replied by grabbing both of them by their tunics and slamming their heads together. Because of her awkward position, however, she was not able to inflict enough force to render them unconscious, but they did fall backward.

Korianka swung her legs toward her face and then forward, pushing off from the ground using her arms, used the momentum to spring her body up into an arch, and then landed on her feet. She circled the guards so that she was behind them, and then slammed their heads together again before they could react; this time they slumped onto the ground unconscious. Satisfied, Korianka grabbed her fighting staff and sprinted down to the dungeons.

XxxxxXXx

Korianka rounded the corner in the dungeon corridor, and quickly doubled back as a guard approached from the other side, but her foot caught on one of the long layers of fabric in her skirt; she tripped and landed flat on her face with a thud. With a flush of embarrassment, she scrambled to her feet and flattened herself against the stone wall.

The guard stopped walking, having heard the sound, and called, "Who's there?" When there was no answer, he approached the bend. Korianka thrust the staff into his gut, swung it into his face, and swept it through his legs, knocking him onto the ground. She swiped the dungeon keys from his belt and peered into each cell along the corridor, searching for McKay.

When she had located his cell, she found him pacing back and forth, and muttering to himself. He was back into his Lantean uniform, but the green jacket was missing. The wedding robes lay in a heap in a corner near the door. "McKay," she whispered. "It's me—Korianka." McKay stopped pacing and, disbelieving, approached the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked quizzically.

"I am going to get you off this planet," she replied. She slipped the cast-iron key into the slot beside the door to begin shutting down the force-field.

"Why?" He gave her a puzzled look—a look that Korianka surprisingly found rather cute.

Ignoring his present question, Korianka punched an access code into the keypad above the key slot. After a short series of beeps, the code was confirmed, and the force field deactivated, falling to the floor like sheer blue curtain. McKay stepped out and brushed imaginary crumbs from the front of his black shirt.

"Where's the rest of my team?" he asked, peering in the other empty cells around him.

"Rodney," Colonel Sheppard's voice floated down the corridor. "I'm over here."

"I am here as well," said Teyla.

"And me," said Ronan.

McKay and Korianka followed the voices. Sure enough, Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronan were in separate cells at the end of the corridor. In silence, Korianka went through the same procedure as she did at McKay's cell and deactivated the force fields. She felt everyone's eyes upon her, staring right through her, not sure if she could be trusted. She felt exposed in her revealing costume, and cursed herself for not changing clothes before she left her quarters.

"Your weapons will most likely be stored in the Armory," she stated quickly. "We will go there first, and then I will lead you through the service entrance and down to the forest. You can find your way to the Ring from there."

The team silently complied by nodding their heads, but each carried a critical expression on their faces. They followed Korianka to the armory in silence, alert in case this escape might come to blows.

The armory was lined wall-to-wall with different assortments of weapons—swords, crossbows, staves, longbows, even a few firearms. It seemed contradictory to have primitive weapons mixed with modern weapons, but it was an interesting sight. As Korianka sifted through the many weapons of the armory, Sheppard voiced what each team-member had been thinking: "Why are you helping us?"

Korianka did not turn from her work. "Because you are innocent," she stated simply. She placed their firearms and walkie-talkies on the wooden table in the middle of the room.

"How can you be sure of that?" Ronan questioned, a mischievous spark jumping into his eyes and then receding.

Korianka furrowed her brow. "Call it woman's intuition."

Teyla smiled. "Your woman's intuition is overriding your warrior's instinct."

Korianka laughed softly. "It is surprising how often the two coincide."

"Excuse me for interrupting," Sheppard said. "But don't you find it a little weird that we didn't meet any guards on the way here?"

The realization hit Korianka like a cuff upside the back of her head. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "We are being _allowed_ to escape…into a trap, no doubt. How could I have been so blind?"

"We must change our plans accordingly," Teyla stated matter-of-factly.

Korianka nodded. "There will most likely be a contingent of guards waiting for us at the service entrance. We will have to use the main entrance."

"Don't you have some sort of secret passage or something?" Sheppard asked, hopeful. Korianka shook her head. "It was worth a shot," Sheppard mumbled.

"We must go," Korianka said. The team secured their weapons in a battle-ready position and followed her to the main entrance. Once again, they encountered no opposition, confirming their earlier suspicions.

The main hall was dark, sparsely lit by a few torches and a little moonlight that peeked through the curtained windows. Korianka and the team moved along the left-most wall, staying in the shadows as much as possible. After many agonizing minutes, they finally reached the double doors of the main entrance. Korianka reached for the handle…

"Lights!" At the command, the main hall was suddenly flooded with artificial light. All heads whipped to the source of the voice—Aram. Robed in black, he stood on the raised marble platform where his throne resided, his left hand resting on top of the back of the chair. A small contingent of twenty or so guards stood in front of the platform, swords drawn and ready for battle. Aram smiled wickedly. "Korianka, my dear, you are so predictable." He stepped off the platform and stood in front of the guards.

Korianka's nostrils flared in anger. Aram ordered the guards to hold the prisoners and confiscate their weapons. The team relinquished their weapons reluctantly, both McKay and Teyla casting Korianka worried glances every so often.

"Aram, you devil-spawn!" Korianka spat as two guards grabbed her by the arms.

"NOW!" Sheppard shouted. He and Ronan laid blows on many of the guards flanking them, disarming many of them. Teyla and McKay joined the brawl, taking down a few more guards, but more guards appeared and overpowered the prisoners. They punched Sheppard and Ronan in the gut and the jaw, forcing them to their knees. Teyla and McKay were forced to their knees as well. Korianka swore and struggled harder with the guards holding her, but one of them backhanded her across the face, leaving a nice red welt that will probably bruise in the next few days. She spat in his face, but stopped struggling for the moment.

Suddenly, Orthéus entered the room, having been awakened by the commotion. He looked quizzically at the prisoners and at his sister. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Your dear sister was helping the prisoners escape," Aram replied innocently. Orthéus looked from Aram to Korianka.

"Is this true, Sister?"

Korianka nodded. "It is, Brother," she replied bitterly. "They are innocent— victims of Aram's manipulation."

"I could disown you for helping them escape." Aram interrupted, trying to change the subject. He laughed wickedly. Korianka was disgusted with the amusement he was gleaning from this. She straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat, a more resolute expression etched into her face.

"You cannot disown me," she stated. A few confused looks crossed almost every person in the room, Orthéus in particular.

Aram stopped laughing and approached Korianka. He looked her directly in the eye. "I am the Chieftain," he said through his teeth. "I can do whatever I please."

"What are you speaking of, Korianka?" Orthéus asked.

"I am going to expose you for the lying serpent you are," she whispered to Aram. In a louder voice, she answered Orthéus's question, but still kept her gaze locked with Aram's. "According to Makkedahn law, the Chieftain may only disown those who are his offspring."

"You will regret this," Aram interrupted in a hushed tone. He retreated from Korianka back to his guards, inconspicuously reaching into the folds of his robe.

Korianka ignored Aram and continued, looking at Orthéus this time. "Aram cannot disown me because I am not his offspring."

Orthéus's eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that our mother was unfaithful to my father?"

"No, Orthéus," Korianka replied. "You and I are cousins. My parents were Chieftain Madai and his wife the Lady Tahrea— murdered at the hands of Aram the Usurper!" She turned her gaze to Aram, ignoring Orthéus's pained expression.

"Father, please tell me it is not true," Orthéus said. Aram quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"That explains a lot," McKay observed.

"It certainly does, Dr. McKay," Aram replied, even though he was not spoken to. McKay glared at him. "And she will die just like her father did, trapped in a corner and begging for mercy." He threw his black robes from himself so that he was dressed only in black leggings and assumed a fighting position. He was well-muscled for a man his age, so much so that it was almost intimidating, but Korianka refused to be intimidated.

"Father, please," Orthéus pleaded.

"Be silent, Orthéus," Aram snapped, keeping his gaze fixed on Korianka. "I should not have listened to my over-compassionate wife and killed you when I had the chance, Wench. Release her." The guards released her from their grasp.

Korianka was torn. As much as she wanted to kill Aram, she would be playing into his hands again by fighting him. Then again, she might not have another chance to kill him.

"You are hesitant, Korianka. How about I give you a little motivation?" Aram gestured toward the guard holding McKay. The guard withdrew a long dagger from his belt and set it to McKay's throat. "If you do not fight me, I will have each one of them killed, and your efforts would have been for nothing."

Rage flared within Korianka's being. She assumed a beginning stance. "You will not touch them," she replied with conviction.

Aram launched himself at Korianka, his hands a fury of motion, landing blows on every exposed area. Korianka dodged and counterattacked, landing a few blows of her own. Aram was a very experienced fighter, but Korianka had speed and agility to her advantage. She began to tire, however, and her attacks got a little sluggish. Aram used this to his advantage and kicked her square in the chest. She flew backward and landed on her back.

She heard someone holler her name, though she could not be sure who it was. She got back onto her feet and assumed a defensive stance. Aram began to assault her again, only this time, he used a curved dagger he had taken from his boot. He sliced and jabbed, but Korianka managed to dodge each attack. She attempted a front sweep of his left leg, but he jumped at the last second and landed closer to her. He tried to ram the dagger into her torso, but Korianka caught his hands and stalled the attack. Aram forced her up against a wall and began pushing the dagger closer and closer to Korianka's chest.

Her heart was beating fast. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. The adrenaline pumped through her veins. She had no time to think of anything other than killing Aram, even if it meant she would die along with him. As Aram pushed the dagger toward her, she kicked him in the groin. He screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip to keep from crying out. His strength faltered just enough for Korianka to take control…

Warm blood spilled over her hand. Aram tried to grab Korianka's shoulder, but his whole body went limp and slumped to the floor, the bloody dagger protruding from his chest. His eyes were open, but no sight came from them; they were blank. Korianka stood over him, panting, covered in bruises, and her torso and belly smeared with Aram's blood. She killed him. It was over.

Well, not quite.


	9. So Be It

Silence.

Everyone stood completely silent and still, looking stunned at the body of the dead Chieftain sprawled on the marble floor. Korianka's chest heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at herself and the blood on her hands, the realization of her actions slowly revealing itself in her mind. "Oh gods," she whispered.

Orthéus knelt beside his father and cradled his head in his arms. Hot tears from closed eyes dripped down his cheeks. He closed the eyelids over his father's eyes and gently stroked his hair.

Korianka took a step toward him. She could hardly bear seeing her brother so broken like this. "Orthéus, I—"

Orthéus raised his left hand to cut her off. "Do not speak to me," he said without looking up. "I should have you executed for murdering the Chieftain."

"C'mon! It was self-defense!" McKay hollered. A guard cuffed him upside the back of his head to silence him.

"Silence!" Orthéus shouted and whipped his angry gaze up to McKay and then to Korianka. "I should have you killed right now." The anger in his gaze seemed to grow with each passing moment. "You and your coward of a husband!"

"He is not part of this!" Korianka shouted. "Your quarrel is with me. Let _them _go," She gestured to McKay, Teyla, Ronan, and Sheppard. "They are not part of this," she said in a softer tone.

After a moment of contemplation, Orthéus nodded for the guards to release the prisoners. McKay wrenched his arms away from the guard's grasp and stood up with a huff. He unconsciously took a place beside Korianka as the rest of the team went to the door, Sheppard's hand poised on the handle. Korianka steeled herself for the decision she was about to declare. "And no longer will I be part of this." She turned to Sheppard. "We must go."

They began to file out the door, but Orthéus stood and said, "If you leave, you not only forfeit your claim to the Royal Family but your life as well—should you return to Makkedah." The anger in his gaze softened into sorrow. Korianka kept her back to him. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists.

"So be it," she said, and stepped out the door.

XxXxXXXx

Each member of the team said not a word on the trek back to the 'gate, but there was a single thought ringing through each of their minds that was as loud and glaring as an atomic bomb: "How are we going to explain this to Elizabeth?"

XxXXxx

A/N: Hopefully, you will find out how they explain it in the next chapter.

It's finally coming together…slowly but surely. I am debating with myself, however, whether I should end it in the next chapter and just do a sequel, or keep it going as one story. Either way, I want to write about Korianka's life on Atlantis and her struggles in her relationship with Rodney (this is where Lorne enters the picture, but I'm not going to spoil it for you ;) ).


	10. Explanations and Sour Faces

A/N: Wow…new chapter…I'm excited. Thank God school's out so I can get caught up with most of my stories.

XxxXXXx

Korianka shivered at the cool temperature that met her when she emerged from the gate. It was a stark contrast to the warm humid weather of Makkedah. She gently rubbed her bare arms to warm herself. It was no wonder she was so cold; she was still in her dance costume. Oh, how she wished she could get out of that costume!

The gate shut down behind her with a soft _whoosh_. A slender dark-haired woman appeared on a balcony to the right and leaned on the metal railing. "Welcome back, Team," she said with a sweet smile. She quirked an eyebrow when her eyes rested on Korianka. "And who is our guest?"

"This is Princess Korianka," Sheppard replied. "She's McKay's—"

"We'll explain everything during debriefing," Telya interjected, shooting Sheppard a stern look.

"Very well," the woman replied. "Have the princess escorted to the infirmary. Debrief in one hour."

XxXXxX

Korianka sat in the cold infirmary and waited. She was still in her costume, but the blood had been cleaned off. She sat cross-legged on an elevated bed, listening to the doctor scribbling on paper nearby. Apparently, it was customary for these people to have a physician examine their guests in order to keep the city's health intact.

The doctor, a small dark-haired man in a long white coat, approached Korianka, clipboard and pen in hand. "Hello," he said. He carried a strange accent. "I'm Doctor Carson Beckett." He smiled and set down the clipboard on the bed. "I'm just going to run a few simple tests to make sure you're healthy."

"I assure you, DoctorCarsonBeckett, I am quite well," Korianka replied. Was it customary for Lanteans to have such long names?

"Just 'Dr. Beckett' would be all right," he replied. "And besides, I think it's a fair bit to say that _I, _as a doctor,want to be sure you're all right, especially since you came into the infirmary covered in blood."

"Very well," Korianka said.

Dr. Beckett began the exam by testing her reflexes. Korianka cocked her head to one side at the strange hammer-looking device. She almost jumped when he began to strike her knee with it. "It's all right, lass," Dr. Beckett said with a chuckle.

Dr. Beckett did all sorts of strange tests that Korianka could not make heads or tails of. He shined a light directly into her eyes, looked up her nose, and stuck a little glass tube with silver on the end into her mouth, and that's not the least of it. Dr. Beckett tried to explain what each test was supposed to show, but Korianka soon grew bored of his explanations and tuned him out.

XxXxxxX

"She's your _what_?" Dr. Weir stood from her chair and leaned on the table, her eyes growing darker by the second.

"Believe me, Elizabeth," Rodney replied quickly. "I don't like this any more than you do."

"How did this happen?" Dr. Weir asked, obviously a little frazzled.

"It's not my fault. I swear!" Rodney raised his hands in front of him as if to emphasize his innocence. Dr. Weir gave him an incredulous look, but Rodney was very adamant. He was about to defend himself, but Sheppard interrupted.

"Look, Elizabeth, he's telling the truth. It really wasn't his fault for once."

"Hey!"

Dr. Weir ignored Rodney's interjection and turned to Sheppard; he sat to her right. "Then what happened?"

This time Teyla answered; she sat on Sheppard's right. "The Makkedahns have many traditions concerning marriage in the Royal Family. One such tradition is the conducting of a tournament to find a suitor for the princess. McKay was kidnapped and forced to compete in their tournament. He won, and was thus required to marry Korianka."

"Though we're not quite sure how he managed it," Sheppard added, earning an icy glare from Rodney.

"Hey, I am not completely incompetent when it comes to hand to hand combat!" he retorted.

"But you're not great either," Ronon replied. He had been silent until now. He turned to Dr. Weir, folded his arms over his chest, and leaned into the back of his chair. "The Guardian was probably drugged. There's no way McKay could have hit him hard enough to knock him out in only three swings."

Rodney threw his arms up. "I quit," he muttered.

"I believe the whole situation was a trap," Teyla conjectured. "Though for what purpose, I do not know." She shook her head and looked away, deep in thought.

Dr. Weir pondered these things for a moment. "Then how did you manage to escape?"

Rodney shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Sheppard gently rubbed the back of his neck. No one said anything for a solid ten seconds. If Rodney didn't know any better, he almost thought he had heard crickets in the background.

"Somebody, answer me," Dr. Weir said firmly.

"Korianka killed Lord Aram," Sheppard replied.

"Oh, I see." Her face became very grave.

"But it was self-defense," Rodney interjected.

"And then her brother Ortheus commanded her—and us—to leave and never come back," Teyla added quietly. There was a little sorrow in her downcast eyes. "She was exiled from her own home because she helped us."

Dr. Weir nodded and took a deep breath. "Very well. I will talk to the princess myself later and get her side of the story. For the moment, seeing as she has nowhere else to go, I want you—Rodney—to make her comfortable." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Rodney couldn't believe this. He made a face akin to disgust. "What do you want _me_ to do?"

"She is _your_ wife, after all," she replied with a smirk.

XxXxXxX

Rodney leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and rolled his eyes. He really couldn't believe Elizabeth talked him into this. Sometimes he really believed she did these things to him just to push his buttons. He had never shared a room with anyone in his entire life—not even in college. He had paid the extra money to have a dorm room all to himself. How was he going to cope with this? He had no idea. Who knows what an alien princess could do to his quarters? Nothing to his liking, no doubt.

Korianka strolled around the room, dressed in a blue jumpsuit, studying the pictures on his desk and the décor of the walls. Actually, she didn't seem pleased. The corner of her mouth was drawn up, and her nose and eyebrows were slightly wrinkled. _Careful, your face might freeze that way_. Rodney laughed to himself. Korianka unconsciously reached up to her face and gently scratched a little gash on her cheekbone; it seemed to be fairly new, but healing quickly. Rodney wondered where she had gotten it.

"I will not share quarters with you," she said after a few moments.

Rodney was almost relieved, but then he remembered the shortage of available rooms on Atlantis. "You don't have much of a choice," he retorted.

"If that truly be the case," she replied icily. "Then do not expect me to share your bed."

"That's fine with me!" Rodney said, becoming slightly more irritated. "I'll have another bed brought in for you. Okay?"

Korianka nodded but pursed her lips together as a show of distaste. The next few weeks were going to be very interesting—a thought that Rodney did not find very encouraging.

XxXxXx

A/N: And so, the Battle of the Sexes begins.


	11. Hot Flashes and Sparks of Attraction

A/N: I am so excited for the new season of SGA! Seriously…you don't even know how excited I am. :D I'm hoping to get this story rolling again in lieu of the new season so it's somewhat up-to-date with what's happening. But I just started college, so updates might be far between for a while. Thanks for stickin' with me on this.

XxXxxX

Rodney lay on his back and stared at the ceiling of his quarters. It was around three in the morning, and he could not sleep. Why? Rodney propped himself on his elbows and glared at the sleeping woman across the room. True to his word, he had had another bed brought to the room. Korianka lay on that bed, facing away from him and sleeping soundly in her blue jumpsuit (she had adamantly refused to wear the set of pajamas Rodney had offered her).

It had been like this every night for the past week. Every night Rodney would turn down the heat before he went to bed; she never failed to turn it right back up to the "boil me alive" setting. Rodney would wake up in the middle of the night virtually drowning in his own sweat. Honestly, why did that woman have to make the room so freaking hot?

It was bad enough that Korianka was a pain in the neck, but it seemed like everyone else decided they wanted to push his buttons too. Rodney decided that he was going to decapitate the next person who cracked a joke about his predicament—namely Sheppard. He hardly wanted to imagine what would happen if Colonel Carter ever found out. This marriage could probably be the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

Rodney got up with a grumble, adjusted the thermostat, and went back to bed.

XxXXxXx

Dr. Weir sighed and folded her hands on top of her desk. She looked quite stately in her maroon long-sleeved shirt and black slacks. Korianka noticed that she had a certain elegant beauty about her, like someone Korianka could come to trust. She looked Korianka directly in the eye. "I had hoped that better circumstances could have brought you to Atlantis." Her voice was soft and compassionate. Korianka's discomfort eased slightly. She shifted in her chair and smoothed the front of her jumpsuit.

"It is not your place to apologize," she replied as strongly as she could. She sat erect in her chair in front of Dr. Weir's desk, hands folded in her lap and her face stoic. Feigned strength was her defense mechanism. "It is I who owes you an apology, Dr. Weir. If it had not been for my uncle's devices, I would still be princess and successful trade between our worlds would have been established."

"It seems both of us have lost something in this whole mess," Dr. Weir replied. "I don't want to dwell too long on the past, but I do need you to answer honestly my questions about what happened so we can avoid this predicament in the future. Do you understand?"

Korianka nodded.

Dr. Weir gave a curt nod in understanding and began her interview. "Teyla tells me that this whole event could have been a trap. Is that true?"

"It certainly was a trap—a very cleverly-crafted one. My uncle has never been known to be stupid."

"But why would he set such a trap?"

"To get rid of me, of course."

Her answer was so blunt that Dr. Weir was quite taken aback. "Why would he want to get rid of you? Surely he didn't hate you that much?"

"He hated my father—and me by association." She looked away for a moment, and then continued. "My uncle killed my parents when I was an infant. He did not kill me because my aunt pleaded with him on my behalf. He adopted me and raised me as his daughter. My brother Ortheus was born shortly thereafter." She stood from her chair, went to one of the glass walls, and stared at the stargate. "He never intended for me to inherit the throne even though it was my birthright, adopted or not; it was his dream that Ortheus rule Makkedah instead of me. He could not kill me or disown me, so he planned for the next best thing: that I forfeit. And that is exactly what I did. Even though I killed him, I forfeited my claim to the throne just as he had planned." There was a sting of bitterness and remorse in her voice, as though she felt she carried the blame for the whole situation.

"That still doesn't explain my team's involvement, though. Wrong time at the wrong place, perhaps?"

"That is most likely. The opportunity must have presented itself when they approached us for trade. Aram used them to get to me because he knew I would not allow them to be punished unjustly."

"What were they accused of?" Dr. Weir stood up and went to stand beside Korianka at the window.

"Plotting to assassinate me. It was an absolute lie, and we both knew it. He imprisoned them, daring me to rescue them—an act which is considered treason—and I fell right into his trap. I wish I had realized it sooner." The last part she said almost to herself.

"What could you have done had you known?"

Korianka let out an exasperated sigh, unconsciously letting her guard drop. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. There's probably nothing I could have done, and that frustrates me." She crossed her arms over her chest and hung her head. "I hate not knowing what to do. I've always had a plan, but this time I didn't think far enough ahead."

"It's not your fault," said Dr. Weir. She laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't punish yourself for something over which you had no control."

Korianka nodded, but did not seem at all reassured.

"I think the next question would be, 'Where do we go from here?'" Dr. Weir smiled and squeezed Korianka's shoulder. "Let's look ahead now. We may not have much control over our circumstances, but we can control how we handle them. You say you've always had a plan? Let's make one now."

Korianka nodded and smiled weakly. "I really do appreciate your help, Dr. Weir."

"Don't mention it. You're practically family now that you're married to Rodney."

The mere mention of McKay's name brought a frown to Korianka's face. She unconsciously scratched the stitched gash on her cheekbone. Dr. Weir noticed her reaction, but said nothing about the wound. What concerned her was Korianka's apparent disdain for Dr. McKay.

"I take it you don't like him very much."

"He and I have…irresolvable issues. I do not care to discuss them."

"I wasn't going to ask you to." Dr. Weir cocked an eyebrow at a sudden idea. "But we do have someone here on Atlantis with some expertise on couple's problems. Her name is Doctor Kate Heightmeyer. I strongly suggest you and Rodney have an appointment or two with her."

"I doubt it will help, but I will consider it."

Dr. Weir smiled. "That's all I ask." She clasped her hands behind her back and stared out the glass wall again. "I was hoping to have Dr. McKay give you a tour of Atlantis, but obviously I'll have to provide someone else. In fact, Sheppard's team is booked for most of the week, I'm afraid."

"That's all right," Korianka replied, her eyes drawn to a certain dark-haired officer who was down on the embarkation floor prepping for his next mission. He was quite handsome—fair skin, pointed nose, heart-shaped face. He seemed to be an easy person to get along with by the way he treated his team. Korianka had never considered herself shallow when it came to men, but this one was so attractive to her that she was instantly smitten. She could be treading in dangerous territory if she wasn't careful. With as much indifference as she could muster, she asked, "Who is that officer down there?" She pointed at the officer in question.

Dr. Weir followed Korianka's finger and quirked another eyebrow. "That's Major Lorne. He's the commanding officer of one of our other reconnaissance teams."

"Would it be too bold of me to request that Major Lorne escort me around Atlantis?"

"Not at all," Dr. Weir replied, but she was very suspicious of Korianka's motive behind the request. "His team is due back in two days. I'll let him know so he can be ready for your tour when he gets back."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir." A small smile found its way to Korianka's face. She was going to enjoy her tour very much.

"You're quite welcome." Dr. Weir took Korianka gently by the arm and led her to the door of her office. "I'm sure you're quite hungry after all our chit-chat, so whaddaya say we grab some lunch?"

"I would like that very much." Korianka smiled wider and stole a quick glance over her shoulder before leaving the room.

XxxXxX

A/N: I just had a sudden burst of ideas for the next few chapters, so I expect to be posting more soon. I'm still open to critique. I really appreciate all those who have reviewed so far; the reviews have been encouraging and uplifting. I'll do my best to make you proud of me. :P


	12. So Much For Divorce

Korianka should not have made such a bold request. It had been impulsive—not thought out well at all—and Korianka was anything but impulsive. She considered herself a calculator and a strategic planner as Aram had taught her, but the last couple of weeks had shown her otherwise. It seemed she lacked the ability to adapt to this new area. It was cold, cramped, and technologically savvy—things she was hardly accustomed to. Even the clothes she had been given were strange. Dr. Weir had graciously explained the dress code on Atlantis, and even though she could virtually wear anything she wanted, she didn't have much to choose from.

It was her own lack of faith in herself that she desperately tried to hide from everyone, especially Major Lorne. He was quite intelligent and charming, with a quick wit and a good head on his shoulders. Korianka found herself paying more attention to him than to the information he recited on the tour.

"Even though there are restricted areas that I can't show you just yet, there's still plenty to see," he said pleasantly. He turned to her as they walked down a corridor toward one of the transportation chambers. He opened his mouth as if to add something, but thought better of it and clamped his mouth closed.

Korianka fidgeted with a stray thread on the sleeve of her black jumpsuit.

"Though, Mrs. McKay, I'm not sure why you requested for _me_ to show you around. I'm just—"

Korianka visibly stiffened. "What did you call me?" she asked with a frown. It seemed to contort her whole face out of shape. She felt like the skin on her face might tear from the strain. It was the hair—she had pulled it back so tight into a roll that it hurt.

Major Lorne looked quite confused at her sour reaction. "I apologize, ma'am. It's just that it's customary on Earth for a woman to take her husband's last name—his family name, I mean."

Korianka considered this for a moment. She loosened the muscles of her face to relieve some of the tension, but that did nothing to appease her sour demeanor. It seemed everything about McKay—even his name—made her want to break something. "I do not wish to bear his name," she said resolutely.

Lorne seemed a bit put off, but only shrugged. "I don't understand why anyone would want to either."

There was silence between for a few moments. The transporter seemed to be taking longer than usual. Korianka scratched her gash again. It had begun to redden and swell. Lorne noticed her movement and grimaced at the sight of the gash. "You should probably get that checked out."

"It's quite all right, Major," she replied, trying to sound cheerful. In truth, the gash burned and itched like someone had rubbed salt in it.

"No, really, it's not a problem," he insisted. "I was gonna show you the infirmary next anyway."

"Very well," she sighed, quickly forming a viable cover story about how she had gotten the gash. She couldn't very well tell them the truth, now could she? On the other hand, why couldn't she tell them the truth? Would it be so difficult?

_Yes, actually._

Never mind.

Dr. Beckett greeted them with a smile. "Major. Princess." He nodded at each of them in turn.

Korianka smiled at his sense of propriety, but shook her head. "There's no need for such formalities, Dr. Beckett. Just call me Korianka." _I am no longer a princess, so there is no need._

"All right, then," he said in his thick accent. Korianka had been told Dr. Beckett was from a place called Scotland, but that meant nothing to her. "What can I do for you?"

"Honestly, Doctor, I'm all right, but Major Lorne insisted that I come see you about the scratch on my face."

"Well, let's have a look-see." Dr. Beckett had her sit down in a cushioned rolling desk chair while Major Lorne unceremoniously plopped onto one of the beds, letting his feet dangle a few inches from the ground. He leaned on the mattress with his hands and watched quietly. Dr. Beckett made a face similar to a frown. "It's gotten worse since I last looked at it, lass," he said after a minute of examination. "It's gotten infected. Have you been scratchin' it?"

"What?"

"Have you been pickin' at it or touching it often?"

"Yes, but--"

"Well, you need to stop." Dr. Beckett slathered some transparent cream on the gash and taped some gauze to it. He also handed her a small bottle of ointment. "Pour this on it a couple times a day, and let me know if it gets worse."

"Thank you, Dr. Beckett." Korianka quickly got up from the chair, hoping against hope that he wouldn't ask her. Just as she and Major Lorne made for the door, Dr. Beckett called to her.

"If you don't mind my asking, how'd ya get that gash in the first place?"

_Damn._

Korianka turned to him. "One of the many hurts of combat training." She turned to leave again, but Dr. Beckett was very persistent.

"And why would a princess such as yourself have need of combat training?"

Her plastered smile was beginning to falter. "For the sake of the people, as well as for my own protection. It is tradition within the royal family. Now if you will excuse me, Dr. Beckett, I have a tour to finish." She turned on her heel and left, Major Lorne not far behind.

An hour later…

"This is the gym," he said, gesturing grandly about the spacious room in front of them. It was currently unoccupied. Various forms of training equipment—mats, staves, weighted objects—had been stacked and arranged in the an open storage closet close by. Light streamed into the room through a large window on the far right. Outside was a remarkable view of one side of Atlantis, the cool metal buildings towering overhead. "You can come here virtually whenever you want," Lorne continued. "Unless it's been reserved. You said earlier that you like to train?" he asked with a smirk.

Korianka had not been expecting a personal question. She blinked twice in slight surprise. "Yes. I've been training since I was a child." _Though it did not benefit me much_, she thought glumly. Her pride still hurt from the Guardian's defeat in the arena.

"Me too," Lorne replied. "I was into karate when I was a kid. Jackie Chan was my hero." He let out a small chuckle, but Korianka failed to see the humor. She quirked an eyebrow and shifted her weight to her other leg. "Oh, sorry," Lorne quickly apologized upon seeing her movement. "You probably have no idea who Jackie Chan is. That's okay. Let's get going."

"Could you show me a little of this 'karate'?" Korianka asked, a bit more flirtatiously than she had intended.

He seemed shocked at her question. He lifted his eyebrows and moved his mouth, trying to form words, but nothing would come out. Finally, he shrugged and replied, "Yeah, sure." He slipped off the black jacket of his jumpsuit and laid it on the ground. Korianka followed suit.

Lorne positioned himself on one of the mats and began a slow and decisive kata. Korianka stood next to him and mimicked his motions. He explained each motion carefully so she had an idea of what was coming next. They were not much different than her own training techniques. She picked them up easily, and soon they were moving into slow-motion sparring. Lorne had ceased his explanations of the moves and simply concentrated on trying to out-smart her.

They picked up speed in the spar and increased the force of their blows. Korianka started to get creative with her moves, but Major Lorne finally managed to get the upper hand. She had his arms locked with hers in a complicated block, so he did a backward sweep of her legs, sending them both to the floor.

Major Lorne looked into her eyes, and Korianka stared into his. Her breathing was heavy from the exertion of sparring. She could feel a light sheen of sweat forming on her forehead. Splotches of red and pink formed on her cheeks—and they weren't from physical activity.

The silence between them was becoming uncomfortably heavy.

"I let you win, you know," she whispered.

With the silence finally broken, Lorne realized his precarious position. He quickly scrambled to his feet, muttering his apologies and hastily putting on his jacket. He quickly regained his composure, pretending like the incident never happened. "Well, that's it," he said pleasantly. "I'll show you to your quarters if you'd like."

Korianka brushed a few stray hairs out of her sweaty face and draped her jacket over her arm. "That would be fine. Thank you for your time, Major Lorne." She smiled—a genuine smile this time. It was a nice feeling compared to the frowns she usually wore.

XxxXxX

"It's a completely valid option!" Rodney retorted, quite defensive. "Technically, we're not even married by Earth's standards."

"But you're married all the same," Dr. Heightmeyer replied calmly. "And opting out at the first sign of trouble does not look good on your record for future relationships."

"At least I'll be able to have future relationships!"

"Korianka, you look like you have something to say."

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into the chair. He couldn't believe Dr. Heightmeyer was taking her side!

Korianka sat erect in her chair, her hands gripping the arms. Her face looked quite tight, probably because of the French roll in her hair. For a split second, Rodney liked her statuesque appearance, but he preferred that green dance costume. "Makkedahn law does not allow the annulment of a marriage unless one partner has died or been unfaithful," Korianka replied.

"You see, Rodney?" the red-headed psychologist said. Her voice was calm and collected, and full of compassion. "Annulment is not an option."

"But I am no longer subject to Makkedahn law," Korianka interjected. Dr. Heightmeyer's face fell. "If Dr. McKay wishes to dissolve our marriage, I will not complain."

Something inside of Rodney broke. It could have been his heart, or at least his ego, but he didn't care. Korianka still refused to call him by his first name, and she was all for an annulment. He was too, but why did it hurt to hear _her_ say it? He was so full of conflicting emotions that he no longer knew what he wanted to get from this argument.

"Both of you are missing the point," Dr. Heightmeyer said, her tone becoming a bit more urgent and commanding. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "You've only been married for a couple of weeks, and you barely know each other. Just like rushing into a marriage, jumping into a divorce would not be good for either of you."

"We didn't exactly have much of a choice!" Rodney squealed. "We didn't _rush_ into anything; we were practically forced at gunpoint!" His already short patience was wearing thin. He couldn't take much more of this waste of time.

"You still owe each other at least an _attempt_ to make this work."

"I owe him nothing." Korianka's voice was quiet, but her tone was sharp and full of bitterness. Rodney was quite taken aback. He uncrossed his arms and turned slightly toward her with an incredulous look on his face. "If anything," she continued. "He is the one indebted to me. Were it not for me, he and his team would not have escaped."

"I would have gotten out eventually," Rodney retorted. "The mechanism wasn't all that complicated. I just needed some time."

"I highly doubt that," Korianka replied. She kept her gaze forward.

"Why?" Rodney asked. His voice had gone up in timbre, and he began to gesture forcefully with his hands as he spoke. "Do you really think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"This is not about you!" She bellowed. She stood angrily and glared at Rodney. It was rather intimidating. "Aram hated _me!_ You were merely a pawn that he used to get rid of _me!_ I did not see through his trap and so was forced to give up my birthright. I lost everything that defined me because I rescued you!" She stormed to a nearby window and used her arms to lean on the adjoining walls for support. Her breathing was heavy and sharp. From his vantage point, Rodney saw a tear roll down her flushed cheek.

Dr. Heightmeyer seemed quite surprised, but quickly regained her compassionate demeanor and called to her. "Korianka, come sit down, please."

Korianka shook her head, pulling a few hairs from her French roll. "I am done with this." Without hesitation, she went to the door, swiped her hand over the opening mechanism, and promptly left. A smothering silence fell upon the room for several seconds.

"Rodney?" Dr. Heightmeyer said quietly. "Rodney, are you all right?"

He turned to her, the corner of his mouth turned down and his eyes sorrowful. "Yeah, just fine," he replied, trying to sound resolute. Needles to say, Rodney was quite put off by her outburst. It was the first time she had ever raised her voice to him—the first time she had stood up to him. It left him very confused.

"Rodney, I know this sounds one-sided," said Dr. Heightmeyer. "But you need to go and make this work. It's very important that you make the best of this for her sake as well as yours. And you can't expect _her_ to try if she doesn't see _you_ taking the initiative."

Rodney nodded numbly. So much for divorce.

XxxXxXx

A/N: Okay, here's what I'm hoping: I'm hoping to stay as close to canon as possible in terms of this pairing. I recently watched Season 3 in preparation for the Season 4 premiere, and remembered that McKay is involved with Katie Brown (I also found out that Dr. Beckett died…I was quite unhappy about that). I'm going to keep that in my consideration, though I haven't decided if I should include it or disregard it. I will, however, make efforts to stay Season 3 compliant as much as possible, as well as Season 4 compliant for the sequel (God-willing). I also hope to have this story and subsequent ones with my OC in it parallel the show. Please review some more; it makes my day so much better. :D


	13. Who's the Boss?

A/N: Well, I'm not quite sure how you guys liked the previous chapter because nobody has reviewed it so far. I guess it wasn't that interesting. Xstrokes chin thoughtfullyX I'll just have to spice things up a little.

XxXxXX

This had not been a good week. Korianka had barricaded herself in the quarters she shared with McKay. As a result, Rodney had been forced to find _other_ accommodations until he had time to override the door controls. It was not the most enjoyable of arrangements.

"You need to show her who's boss, McKay," Sheppard said with a hint of humor. "Then things like this wouldn't happen." He shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked.

"I don't need your relationship advice, Colonel," Rodney retorted with an exasperated glare. He tapped his handheld tablet computer and made an adjustment in the door control. The door made a serious of beeps and slid open. "There we go," he said to himself.

"Okay then, we brief next Tuesday at 0800," Sheppard said as he turned and started to walk away. "Oh, and Rodney?"

Rodney looked over his shoulder at Sheppard. "What?"

"Remember what I said." He jabbed a finger at him and smiled smugly.

Rodney scoffed and disconnected his computer from the controls before entering the room. He closed the door behind him and set his computer on his bed. Korianka sat on her bed across the room, legs pulled to her chest. She seemed to be staring at an imaginary object on the white sheets in front of her so she didn't look up when Rodney entered. "I was curious as to how long it would take you to get in," she said quietly.

She was wearing blue pants and a gray tank top; her blue jumpsuit jacket lay over the back of Rodney's desk chair. Her brown hair was quite a mess; it had been pulled back into a greasy ponytail, like it had not been washed for the past three days. The only color on her unusually pale face was the red splotches on her cheeks.

"Well, I couldn't stay with Colonel Sheppard forever," Rodney replied, wondering if he should take Sheppard's advice. He pulled his shoulders back and took a short breath. "And you're not going to do anything like this again. Do you understand?" He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms in attempt to project his authority.

Silently, Korianka got up from her bed and went to Rodney, subtly shoving her way into his personal space. Her green eyes twitched, and she pursed her lips into a thin line. Rodney could tell she was restraining herself from some kind of angry outburst. "As you wish, Husband." The sharpness in her eyes softened, but her tone lost none of its bite. Rodney inwardly winced. Talk about an ice queen. She dipped her head slightly, brushed past Rodney, and went to the door. "I am going to the gym." She opened the door and left.

_Way to go, Rodney. Now she really hates you_.

Rodney let go of his breath and cursed himself. How was he supposed to "make it right" now? It was painfully clear to him that Korianka had no intention of submitting to him under any circumstances, so why waste his time trying?

Dr. Heightmeyer's words exploded in his mind: _You can't expect her to try if she doesn't see you taking the initiative._ In Sheppard's words, he's got to show her who's boss. But how can he do that without making her hate him even more than she already does? He'd have to puzzle that one out later. For now, his only concern was changing into a clean uniform.

XxxXXx

Korianka felt a little better after that intense workout and a much-needed shower. She had discarded her sweat-stained jumpsuit for a pair of loose brown pants and a gray bodice—courtesy of Teyla. She had also braided her hair after she had gotten out of the shower so that it would crimp as it dried.

She took a breath to relax herself and marched across the second floor of the gate room, heading toward Dr. Weir's office. Major Lorne and his team stood on the embarkation floor, waiting for the gate to be dialed. Despite her better judgment, Korianka descended the wide stairs. Her stomach started to flutter, and her cheeks flushed when he noticed her presence.

He smiled and met her at the bottom of the stairs. "It's good to see you again, Korianka."

"The same for you, Major," Korianka replied, firmly shaking his outstretched hand.

"I hear you locked McKay out of his own room," he said with a congratulatory smirk. "Nice work."

Korianka grabbed her braid and nervously twirled it between her fingers. "I merely needed my privacy."

Major Lorne sniggered and shifted his P-90 to a more comfortable position. "Don't be too hard on him, though. He's got a good side to him sometimes; he just…doesn't show it often."

Korianka nodded in agreement, but was largely tempted to disregard his statement altogether, so she changed the subject. The technician in the control room began dialing the gate, so she needed to be quick before Major Lorne had to leave. Without thinking about it, she put on the most innocent and dewy-eyed expression imaginable before asking, "Will you show me the puddle jumpers when you return?"

He shrugged as if oblivious to her not-so-subtle charms. "It's gonna be a couple days, but yeah—sure." Behind him, the gate came to life in a bright blue whirlpool, and the shield was lowered.

_Major Lorne,_ said Dr. Weir over the radio. _You have a go. Good luck._

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied into his earpiece. With a smile and a nod to Korianka, he turned around and led his team through the gate.

Korianka drew herself to her full height and exhaled. She had never before felt so anxious and excited around a man. It was a confusing, yet pleasant feeling. It made her feel…happy.

With a spring in her step, she bounded up the stairs two at a time and casually strolled through the control room. The technicians spared her a glance and an occasional smile, to which she gave a smile in response. Energy coursed through her veins like an excitatory drug; she felt ready to take on an entire contingent of the Makkedahn cavalry. She gently rapped on Dr. Weir's glass door and opened it slightly. Dr. Weir looked up from her work and smiled.

"Korianka, please, come in."

Korianka entered and closed the door behind her before taking a seat in front of Dr. Weir's desk.

"I've been expecting you." Dr. Weir clasped her hands together on top of her desk and leaned on her elbows. She sported a red and gray jumpsuit over a conservative red shirt. Her dark brown hair was a mess of curls. "I assume you've come to discuss your request to be assigned to a reconnaissance team. Am I right?"

Korianka nodded and folded her hands in her lap. She relaxed into her chair, letting her shoulders slump a little and crossing one leg over the other. It felt good to relax; she should do it more often.

"I have considered your request, but before I give you an answer, I would like you to satisfy my own curiosity. Why do you want to go off-world?" She quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.

Korianka shrugged. "I feel that I have overstayed my welcome as a guest and would like to start making some sort of contribution to your expedition. I also do not enjoy being idle for such a long period of time."

"So, you're basically telling me that you're bored?" Dr. Weir asked playfully.

"I am…restless."

"This doesn't have anything to do with avoiding Dr. McKay, does it?" Dr. Weir's voice held a more serious tone. Korianka tensed slightly. She was hoping this conversation would not come to that.

"I admit that Dr. McKay and I do not get along, but that has not influenced my decision." Korianka looked away for a moment and then back to Dr. Weir.

"You locked him out of his own quarters for three days," she stated with a tilt of her head. Amusement played in her brown eyes, but showed nothing on her face. "I'd say there's more than just 'not getting along.'"

"He managed to get in eventually," Korianka replied, non-chalant.

"So you were testing him?"

Korianka had never considered that; she certainly had not meant to come across as so cold-hearted. In the back recesses of her mind, though, she still needed a solid conviction that McKay was a worthy husband, but she knew better than to verbalize it. "Put in those terms, yes, but it was not a conscious effort."

The leader of the Atlantis expedition did not look entirely convinced, like she could hear Korianka's suppressed thoughts. She leaned closer and spoke very sternly, "Rodney may be a difficult person to deal with, but underneath, he's a good man. Give him a chance."

Korianka looked away, ashamed. While she was accustomed to reprimand from Aram, reprimand from Dr. Weir was another matter entirely. Had Korianka retained her title, she and Dr. Weir would have been essentially equals in terms of status. Dr. Weir was also a friend. A stern reproof coming from such a person tends to sting the ego. "I apologize, Dr. Weir," she said quietly. "I will take your words to heart."

Dr. Weir smiled softly. She came around and sat on the edge of the desk directly in front of Korianka. "Marriage is a difficult but beautiful thing," she said, matching Korianka's soft tone. "Enjoy it while you have it. Use it to make yourself better." She laid a hand on Korianka's shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She stood up and went back to her chair. "Now, back to business."

XxXxXXx

Rodney stormed into his quarters, unceremoniously dropped his computer onto his bed, and threw his jacket on top of it. "Why did I hire such _idiots_?" he cursed to himself, oblivious to another presence in the room. Korianka stared blankly at him from her bed, eyebrows raised and tablet computer in her lap. Rodney returned her stare with a challenge in his own, but she didn't respond to it. She merely pushed her wavy hair behind her shoulders and returned to her computer.

Wait—why did she have a computer? His curiosity aroused, Rodney casually stepped closer to her bed, but kept a respectable distance. She glanced up when his shadow hovered over her. "Is there something you need, Dr. McKay?" Her bitter temperament from their previous encounter seemed to have waned, but it was still there.

"Oh, no," he replied quickly. "I was just wondering what you were reading."

Korianka smirked—the closest thing to a smile he had ever seen her do. "Then you should have said so. I am perusing some reports that Dr. Weir suggested I become familiar with." She tapped on the screen to advance to the next page in the report.

"Why would Elizabeth want you to do that?"

"She has put me under consideration for off-world missions."

"Why would she do that?!" Rodney squealed, horrified. Korianka's eyebrows arched and her upper lip curled in such a way that she was telling him he was moron without even saying as much.

"Because I requested it."

"Why?"

"Do you always ask so many stupid questions?" She clamped her hands over her head and made a breathy growl to express her exasperation. "Leave me be. I need to get through a good portion of these files before my evaluations on Monday."

Rodney gaped at her. "Are you serious? You can't just—"

"I can take care of myself, Dr. McKay," she cut in. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was jostling the bee hive now, but he didn't care.

"I wish you would have talked to me about it first." There, he said it.

Korianka glared at him and opened her mouth to bite back, but she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. "You are right," she said, leaning one arm on her lap and resting her chin on her hand. "As my husband you are sworn to protect me, so it is only natural that you are concerned, but I assure you that I can handle it."

Rodney sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. There was no changing her mind. "Okay," he said, trying to reassure himself. She probably just wanted to feel useful, like everyone else. "Just…talk to me next time…please." Korianka nodded and returned to her reading—discussion closed. At least they've made some progress.

XxXXxxX

A/N: I know this chapter and the previous one were basically fillers, but there were things that I needed to establish before I got to the action. Now that those are out of the way, the next few chapters will be more exciting.


	14. The Curse of Betrayal

A/N: Ah, breathe the scent of critique…so refreshing. Another talking chapter, I'm afraid…but this is _much-needed­_ talking. Hopefully some of the things said here will help to strengthen the action that comes next. Isn't that what dialogue is supposed to do anyway?

XxxXXx

"Well, Korianka, you have my stamp of approval," Dr. Heightmeyer said pleasantly. She turned off a small audio recording device sitting on the end table next to her chair. "As far as I am concerned, you are clear for gate travel."

Korianka smiled and took a much needed deep breath. The evaluation hadn't been as grueling as she had expected. It was only a series of interviews with fairly simple questions, seemingly unconnected, but she trusted that Dr. Heightmeyer knew how to learn from such questions. In fact, she admired the doctor's ability to ask a question in just the right way as to get the information she needed. Korianka could learn a few things from her.

All she had to do now was get clearance from Dr. Beckett and ultimately from Dr. Weir.

Dr. Heightmeyer pushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear and leaned forward slightly. Her expression softened tremendously, making Korianka wonder if she was going to like her next question. "Off the record," the doctor said. "I need to talk to you about you and Rodney."

Korianka willed herself not to tense up. She kept her body still and relaxed. "There is no need to tell me of Dr. McKay's redeeming qualities. I have heard about them many times already, though I have yet to see them."

Dr. Heightmeyer shook her head. "This is not strictly about Rodney McKay. I need to talk to you about _your_ part in this relationship."

"Go on," Korianka said, her interest aroused.

"I know that you locked him out of his quarters. That is not a good sign, Korianka. You are isolating yourself from him and from the rest of the people here who care about you. When was the last time you meditated with Teyla or had lunch with Dr. Esposito? It seems she has taken quite a liking to you."

"I…I…" she stammered. The doctor had made an excellent point.

"I'm here to help you, Korianka, but you need more social interaction than a therapy session. Even a small group of close friends is enough."

"No one would understand," Korianka replied quickly. She shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

"It is part of human nature to think that our problems are our own, that no one can ever understand how we feel. That certainly is not the case. No matter what you are feeling, there is at least one person somewhere in this galaxy or the next who is going through the very same thing. And you only hinder yourself from overcoming these problems when you refuse to let someone help you."

"Then what do you suggest that I do?" Korianka pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. Her bony blue bodice jabbed into her belly, but she didn't care. Her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach; she knew where this conversation was headed: the truth.

"Talk to Rodney. Get to know him. You say you haven't seen his 'redeeming qualities'? It's quite possible that you have, but you have chosen to ignore them. He is trying very hard to make this relationship work, but you are only sabotaging his efforts by spurning him. Show him you are worth the effort, or sooner or later, he'll give up entirely, and both of you will fall apart."

Memories of Dr. McKay's actions suddenly flashed before her—standing up to her brother, bringing another bed to his quarters, not complaining about her changing the thermostat so often, his concern for her safety, even dragging her to lunch once—things she had completely ignored. Korianka shook her head fervently, sending the end of her chestnut brown braid whipping about her shoulders. "I c-can't," she whispered.

"You can't only because you won't allow yourself to." Dr. Heightmeyer leaned closer so that she was merely inches away from Korianka's face. Gently grabbing her by the chin, she whispered, "Let go of the baggage you have with your uncle. You are venting your anger for your uncle on Rodney merely because he happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Let it go."

Dr. Heightmeyer moved to a seat next to Korianka and wrapped an arm around her. She gently stroked her hair. "It is often said on Earth that bitterness is like drinking poison and expecting your enemy to die. Your bitterness will destroy you if you don't let it go."

Korianka was silently crying now. She closed her eyes and buried her face between her knees. It was true—all of it. The revelation of her own insecurities hit her like a backhanded smack across the face, and she deserved it. She felt so weak—so vulnerable. She had to do something—_anything­—_to make that feeling go away.

After a few minutes, Korianka was able to calm down with Dr. Heightmeyer's help. "Take a nice long nap," the doctor said. "Talk to Rodney, and let me know how it goes."

XxXXxX The next day…

"What is it _now_, Radek?" Rodney asked without looking up from his laptop. "Can't you see I'm trying to finish this recalibration?" He rested his chin on his hands and leaned his elbows on the cool metal table. He typed a few strokes and then studied the screen again.

"Rodney, your wife is here to see you," was Radek's soft reply. The small scientist hovered over Rodney, waiting for him to respond.

"My wha—? Oh," Rodney said with a raise of both his eyebrows. He got up from his chair and went to the door of his lab. Korianka stood there, dressed in short gray pants and a conservative blue bodice, and hair pulled back into a braid. Something about her seemed different, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Um, what's up?" _That was really lame, Rodney._

"I was hoping I could speak with you, but if you are otherwise occupied, then I shall come back later." Her tone was softer than usual. With a disappointed look, she turned to go, but Rodney called her back.

"Well, I'm not terribly busy. We could talk for a few minutes."

She locked her hands behind her back and twiddled her fingers anxiously. "Dr. McKay, I—"

Rodney's watch beeped loudly, startling both of them. He glanced at it, suddenly realizing he had somewhere to be in the next five seconds. _Damn! Of all the times to be important…_ "Um, look, I've got a briefing to go to and then I'm going off-world right after. Will you take a rain check?"

"It's quite all right." Korianka jerked her head toward the control tower; her shoulders slumped a little. "You are needed."

Rodney nodded, but said, "We'll talk when I get back, okay?" Korianka dipped her head slightly in agreement and walked down the opposite corridor, her braid swinging behind her back like a pendulum. She looked over her shoulder, met his eyes, and smiled. Maybe Rodney was actually getting somewhere.

Korianka, on the other hand, had one last thing to take care of.

XxxXxxX

Rodney strolled into the jumper bay dressed in his black uniform, ready for action—or lack thereof. It was going to be a simple mission: fly to the planet, get their ZPM if possible, fly back and gate to Atlantis, mission done. But there was still a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that _something_ was going to go wrong.

Colonel Sheppard took the driver's seat of the nearest jumper and began to power it up. Rodney sat in the co-pilot chair while Ronon and Teyla took their seats just behind. While he was tapping on the control panel in front of him, Rodney's peripheral vision sensed movement nearby outside the jumper's windshield. He instinctively glanced up from his work, thinking nothing of it.

He did a double take.

He leaned forward and craned his neck to see outside the windshield.

"McKay," Sheppard said. "What are you doing?"

"Just a sec," Rodney mumbled, got up from his chair, and quickly left the jumper. That sinking feeling in his stomach got worse; he fancied he could feel an ulcer forming in his stomach lining. Keeping his footfalls slow and quiet, he approached a jumper two parking slots away. The rear hatch had been opened. Out of curiosity, Rodney stopped just outside the jumper and listened. Quiet voices emanated from within the jumper. Rodney recognized one of them as Major Lorne's and another as a female; Lorne seemed to be describing some of the jumper's sub-routines.

Major Lorne suddenly stopped speaking. Rodney turned his body just enough to peek inside the jumper. His eyes widened so much they might have actually popped right out of their sockets.

_Rodney, what are you doing?_ Sheppard called over his radio, slightly irritated and concerned at the same time.

Rodney cursed under his breath and jogged back to his jumper. He should have known. No wonder Korianka didn't like him—she was into Lorne the whole time! Maybe that's what she was trying to tell him earlier, and he hadn't made the time to listen. He plopped into his seat. "Go," he said quickly, ignoring the questioning stares of his teammates. "Just go."

XxXXxX

A/N: And just when you thought they were making progress…I can be so cruel sometimes.


	15. Xena, Warrior Princess to the Rescue!

Korianka watched in horror as the puddle jumper descended into the gate room. McKay was on that jumper, and he had seen everything. Had she realized he would have been in the jumper bay…

Tears stung her eyes as she clenched her hands into white-knuckled fists and stormed out of the bay, leaving Major Lorne behind. She wandered through the corridors, not really caring where she was going. Her fists clenched and unclenched, eager to punch something—anything—to relieve the tension building up in her muscles.

How could she have been so blind to her own temptation? She should have known not to trust herself to be alone with Major Lorne. That one mistake would cost her dearly.

One way or another, she had to make things right.

XxxXxxX

"You wanna talk about it?" Sheppard asked casually as he nimbly hopped over a fallen log.

"No," Rodney replied with a sour note. He brushed some dangling vines out of his way and fought through the dense foliage. The air stunk of plants; it was heavy and difficult to breathe. Ronan and Teyla were up ahead clearing a path. Colonel Sheppard had dropped back to talk to Rodney. "I'm picking up massive energy readings a few kilometers ahead of us," Rodney said, holding up his PDA to see the screen better. "Probably the ZPM."

The jungle directly ahead of them suddenly disappeared into a wall of shimmering energy. Ronan passed his gun through it to test its density. "It's not a force field," he stated, a low growl coloring his voice.

"Of course it isn't," Rodney snapped. He immediately felt extremely small under Ronan's icy glare. "Sorry," he muttered. After consulting his PDA, he shrugged and said, "It doesn't seem to be dangerous." He stepped through it, only to be greeted by clear cool air, green grass, and a bright blue sky.

"Whoa," Sheppard whispered after he, Ronan, and Teyla had passed through the field. "That was weird."

"The ZPM must be powering a bio-sphere of some kind," Rodney mused. "That's probably the reason why most of the life signs are grouped here."

"Okay, then," Sheppard said. "Let's get a move on, shall we?" He charged forward, but Teyla caught his arm and held him back. She had an odd look on her normally gentle face, like something was deeply troubling her. "What's the matter, Teyla?"

"I sense Wraith here. Several of them. They are not close, but we must proceed with caution."

Sheppard nodded. "Okay. We'll make contact with the villagers, and then me and Ronan will go check it out while you and McKay see what you can find out from the people."

Rodney got that sinking feeling in his stomach again. His imaginary ulcer started to sting. Wraith was the last thing he needed right now.

XxXxXx The next day…

"Any word yet, Chuck?"

"Not yet, Dr. Weir," Chuck replied from his chair at the main control computer. Dr. Weir crossed her arms over her torso and took a deep breath. She was starting to get worried. When Korianka stepped into the control room, her anxiety got worse. The former princess must have known that Colonel Sheppard's team had missed their check-in three hours ago.

"Dial it," she said to Chuck. After it the gate had been activated, Dr. Weir tapped on her headset. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. Weir. What's your status?" No answer. "Colonel, are you all right?"

After several agonizingly long seconds, Sheppard cackled into her radio. His voice was hushed, his tone urgent. _We've been captured. Send—_he was cut off. Dr. Weir immediately tapped her headpiece again. "Major Lorne, Colonel Sheppard's team has been captured. Assemble your team and a contingent of marines. Be ready to gate out as soon as possible. And you'll need to use a jumper."

_Copy that, Dr. Weir, _Lorne replied. _Be ready in ten._

"Dr. Weir." Korianka cautiously approached her; there was a deep crease between her eyebrows. "Please let me go with them." She took deep but quiet breaths to keep herself composed.

"I'm sorry, I can't allow that," Dr. Weir stated as gently as she could. She started pacing back and forth in front of the windows that faced the gate room. She slid her hands into her pockets to keep them from fidgeting.

"Elizabeth, please," Korianka pleaded. She pointed vehemently to the active stargate. "My _husband_ is out there." Dr. Weir stopped pacing and looked at her, shocked. "I know you have not approved my evaluations yet, but I won't be able to live with myself if there's something I could have done to help him and I did not do it. Please, let me go with them." She sounded quite insistent, almost to the point of begging.

Dr. Weir studied her for a moment, moved by her passionate words. It seemed she has had a change of heart about Rodney; and she had helped Colonel Sheppard's team escape her homeworld, after all. "Don't make me regret it," she said to Korianka. The younger woman nodded, expressed her thanks, and promptly left to go suit up. Dr. Weir tapped her headpiece. "Major Lorne, make room for one more. Korianka is coming with you."

_With all due respect, Dr. Weir, are you sure that's a good idea?_

"Trust me on this one, Major. Just bring them home."

_Yes, ma'am. Lorne out._

XxXxX

Korianka was the only woman present on the puddle jumper, and the silence was smothering her. Her black BDU's were hot and scratchy, and the extra weight of the vest did nothing to help. The P-90 rifle felt odd in her hands, so she started braiding her hair to keep herself from fiddling with it. If only her first off-world mission could have been under better circumstances, but it seemed that Fate liked to toy with her.

"There's the other jumper," Lorne observed, breaking the heavy silence. The marines in camouflage BDU's around Korianka began to stir, anxious for the action to start. "Engaging cloak." Lorne landed the jumper close to the other one and opened the rear hatch. The soldiers filed out, weapons ready and senses alert. Korianka then exited, followed by Major Lorne. He grabbed her gently by the arm. "You don't have to come, you know," he whispered without looking at her.

Korianka pulled her arm from his grip. "Yes, I do." She looked him in the eye, projecting as much strength and resolution through her gaze as possible.

With a little shake of his head, Major Lorne moved to the front of the group and began the long trek through the thick foliage. Korianka positioned herself in the middle of the group and trudged along with them, willing herself to have courage. While she had read extensively into some of these kinds of missions, she had no idea what to expect. What if she should falter and jeopardize the entire mission? Dr. Weir would certainly never let her leave Atlantis again.

She would be fine as long as she did as she was told. At least, that's what she kept preaching to herself.

"Don't look so worried," said the man to her right. He was a marine, probably in his late thirties. His hair was blonde and his skin lightly tanned. The name on his uniform read "Maguire."

"I am not worried," she replied quietly as she moved a plant out of her way.

"I didn't say you were actually worried," he said, almost playfully. "I just said not to look like you are. We'll get them back; you can be sure of that. Colonel Sheppard's team has been through a lot worse than this."

They came upon the shimmering energy field. Lorne picked up a stone and tossed it; the stone passed right through the field. He raised his weapon to his shoulder and motioned for the rest of the team to follow him. He disappeared behind the field.

Korianka instinctively shivered as she passed through it. Energy tingled in her extremities. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and shifted her grip on her weapon. She was quite surprised when she emerged on the other side. The weather inside the field was extremely different than outside the field. The air was cleaner, the grass was greener, and the sky was actually visible through the sparse populous of trees.

Lorne continued on, motioning them forward. A small urban town became visible in the distance. "Pair off and position yourselves at different points around the town's perimeter," Lorne instructed. "I'll try to negotiate for their release. If that doesn't work, wait for my signal and then move in. We don't want any casualties. Hardin, you're with me."

Maguire turned to Korianka and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Korianka nodded in understanding and stealthily followed him to the east side of town. She studied the way he moved and the small actions he took on the way so she would remember them if she should find herself in this kind of situation again.

They ducked behind what looked like an abandoned storage shed. It probably used to have a coat of blue varnish, but the color was worn and chipped with age and weathering. Korianka crouched as low as possible behind Maguire and waited, not even daring to breathe.

She had a pretty good view of the town square from her vantage point. Twelve white stone pillars about a man's height stood there, arranged in a semicircle with the arc facing away from the entrance to the town. Lorne and Hardin slowly passed into her field of vision; they were met by a fat balding man dressed in a gray robe who had just come out of one of the smaller buildings. He approached them and began speaking to them, but he hardly looked pleased.

Korianka stiffened. Something cold and hard pressed up against the back of her head. She discreetly grabbed Maguire's elbow and squeezed. He looked over his shoulder and swallowed hard. Two male villagers, armed with P-90's, had them cornered, firearms aimed directly at their skulls.

"Lower your weapons," one of them said. "Make any sudden moves, and we will be forced to fire."

XxXxXx

A/N: Not exactly a walk in the park, is it? I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter; it seems like another filler to me, even though I didn't want it to be, but tell me what you think. I'm excited though--I'm getting really close to finishing this story. WooHoo!


	16. Imprisoned with No Candy Bars

"Would you stop pacing, Rodney?" Sheppard asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Oh, please excuse me while I try to find a way outta here!" Rodney snapped and continued his nervous pacing, stale moldy straw crunching underneath his boots.

It was a simple prison with adjoining cast iron jail cells along two walls; it shouldn't be difficult to figure out a way to escape. There were several complications, though; their weapons were gone, their radios had been confiscated, even Rodney's emergency candy bars had been taken from him. The prison itself was situated underground with no windows and only one door. The only light offered was that made by torches.

"Don't waste your time," a snarky voice said in the darkness. "We're all gonna die anyway."

"And who are you?" Sheppard asked.

A thin man with a rugged face leaned into a ring of torchlight. He was in a cell catty-corner to theirs. "Alvis," he said. "Not that it really matters." He receded from the light, his shadowy form leaning against the stone wall.

"What'd you do to get in here?"

"Snatched a couple of chickens from old Hamfast last week."

"Your people would kill you for that?" Teyla asked.

"They don't do the actual killing," he replied blandly. "They just let you die."

"Then who does the killing?" Ronan asked in a low growl.

The metal door opened with a loud groan, admitting five armed villagers flanking four SGA personnel. They unceremoniously prodded their new prisoners into a cell directly across from the one currently occupied. "And don't think we won't find the others," one villager said with a devious smirk as he followed his comrades back through the door.

Sheppard groaned. "Come to join the party, Major?"

"Couldn't help myself, sir," Lorne replied, matching Sheppard's sarcasm. He distributed his weight on both legs and crossed his arms.

"There's more of you?" Alvis quipped. He crawled into the light and looked hard on the new group. A creepy smile spread across his face. "If any more show up, I might not have to die after all."

Major Lorne made a face akin to disgust. "What is he talking about?"

"This is Alvis," Sheppard replied. "He just informed us that we're all gonna die. I guess we poked around too much; must've struck a nerve when we found that Wraith dart."

"There are Wraith on this planet?" Lorne asked.

"According to Teyla, there's several of them, but so far, we've only found the dart; it was just outside the bio-sphere. From what little I saw of it, it can still fly, but just barely. I doubt it would make it out of the planet's atmosphere to get to the 'gate."

"I believe these Wraith were separated from their Hive many years ago," Teyla said. "And they have been feeding on these people ever since."

"They promised not to cull our world," Alvis interjected, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. "If we provided people for them to feed on—criminals, outcasts, the whole lot. So every few months, they come for their share. The twelve pillars in the square serve as a remembrance of those given for our survival. You, me, and the rest of your friends just happen to be the unlucky ones."

"Why do your people not fight back?" this was a new voice, coming from the shadows of Major Lorne's cell. It was distinctly feminine and immediately recognized by Rodney. She must have retreated to the back of the cell before Rodney had had a chance to realize she was there. She stepped into the light, wearing black BDU's and an apprehensive face.

"Korianka?" he gasped, disbelieving. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I have come to rescue you…again," she replied, straining to sound pleasant. "It seems you are always getting into trouble."

"That's not true," Rodney retorted. She quirked an eyebrow. "Okay, sometimes," he muttered. "But why would you want to rescue me?" he asked, his voice carrying a little more anger than he had intended. "You don't even like me! You made that _perfectly_ clear when you played suck face with Major Lorne in the jumper bay yesterday."

The tension level in the room shot through the roof.

"That explains a lot," Sheppard muttered, lifting his eyebrows to his hairline.

Teyla leaned slightly toward Sheppard and whispered, "I do not understand."

"It means she kissed him," Sheppard whispered back. Teyla mouthed an "Oh," and nodded gently.

Major Lorne shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Dr. McKay—"

"No, Marcus, let me handle this," Korianka said sharply, and then added, "Please."

"'Marcus'?" Rodney asked with his mouth agape. "Oh, so you're on a first-name basis with Lorne now? Well, I guess that works since you're on a face-to-face basis with him too!"

"Rodney!" Teyla said sternly. Rodney ignored her. He was angry now, and he didn't care what anyone else thought. If he was about to die anyway, he wanted the truth before he did.

Korianka hung her head and clutched the iron bars in front of her until her knuckles turned white. His words had stung hard and deep. She looked up at him with frustrated green eyes. "What would you have me say, Rodney?" she asked, her voice tense.

Rodney opened his mouth with a smart retort, but failed to speak the words. She had called him by his first name—something she had previously refused to do. What was going on?

She swallowed and continued. "I crossed a line with Major Lorne—a mistake I will never make again—but I swear to you that what you saw is all that happened. I am as chaste now as I was when we were married."

"So you weren't sleeping with him or anything?" Rodney asked critically.

"No," Korianka replied quietly.

Rodney grabbed the bars of his cell. "I—"

The metal door swung open. A well-dressed man carrying a long rod with two prongs on one end entered, flanked by four armed villagers. He was tall and thin, and had a dark and grim presence. He reminded Rodney of the actor Jeremy Irons. He studied both groups for a moment, and then pointed to Korianka, Lieutenant Maguire, and Alvis. "Bring them. I will send for the rest shortly."

Furtive glances were cast between the Atlantis personnel as a rather invincible-looking villager removed Korianka from her cell. "Please forgive me," Korianka said and reached to grab Rodney's hand, but the man grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She cried out and jabbed her elbow into his face, knocking him backward. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head backward.

"Hey!" Rodney bellowed. "Keep your hands off her!"

The man with the pronged rod went to him and thrust the prongs into Rodney's gut, shooting sharp burning pain through every nerve in his body. Rodney cried out and doubled over, caught by Sheppard before hitting the ground.

"You okay?" Sheppard whispered, supporting Rodney with an arm around his shoulders. Rodney nodded numbly.

"Do not make this any more difficult for yourself," said the man, a trace of regret in his face. "Come," he said to villagers. The door shut behind them with a loud metallic clang.

"Damn it!" Rodney cursed sharply. What was he supposed to do now? Korianka could be dead by the time the guards came back for the rest of them. He needed to get to her before the Wraith did. He kept spinning the gears in his head, but kept coming up blank. That electrical charge from the rod must have messed with him somehow. His nerves still tingled every so often, sending chills down his spine.

"I've got an idea," Ronan stated, his arms crossed over his broad chest and a mischievous look on his bronze face.

Only a few moments later, a broad-shouldered villager entered the prison, bearing the pronged rod. Ronan's gun was clipped to his leather belt. He ushered Major Lorne and Lieutenant Hardin out of their cell and prodded them into the grasp of other armed villagers just outside. He eyed Teyla lustfully, licking his lips and smiling like a wolf on the prowl. Ronan stepped between them and glowered.

If the villager was intimidated by Ronan, he didn't show it. He merely cocked his head to one side and twirled the pronged rod in lazy circles around his body, challenging Ronan with his eyes—daring him to do something reckless.

And that's exactly what Ronan did.

He grabbed the iron bars of his cell and whispered something with a small smirk. Rodney couldn't hear exactly what he had said, but it had something to do with the other guy's mother and sister. His anger sparked, the villager thrust the pronged rod through the bars with intent to spear Ronan in the gut. In the blink of an eye, Ronan had stepped aside, grabbed the rod, and yanked the man against the bars, dislodging the rod from his grasp and knocking him to the floor. He jabbed the prongs into the man's side, further weakening him. He grabbed his gun from the man's belt with much satisfaction.

Teyla swiped the ring of keys from the villager's belt and tried each key in the hole until the catch gave. She shoved the cell door open, and they quickly left the prison only to find the other three villagers on their knees with their hands behind their heads and P-90s aimed at their backs. "Nice work, Lorne," Sheppard commented.

Lorne nodded. "Thanks for the distraction, sir."

Sheppard walked around the group to face the villagers. His face was stern as a flint. "First of all, where's the rest of our weapons?"

After a nice jab in the back from Lorne's P-90, a skinny blonde man jerked his head toward a room at the end of the underground corridor to his right. With a nod, Sheppard sent Ronan and Teyla to go collect their weapons. "Okay, so far so good," Sheppard said lightly, kneeling in front of the villager and getting into his face. "Now, where's the rest of my people?"

The villager swallowed and replied quietly, "They've been taken to a cave in the mountains outside the village." He cast his blue eyes downward and shifted under Sheppard's scrutiny.

"Show me."

Ronan and Teyla returned with their firearms, much to Rodney's relief. He gripped his weapon firmly, determined not to let it out of his sight again. Lorne prodded the skinny villager up the stairs leading to ground level. Rodney took a deep breath and gripped his weapon tighter. He hoped against all hope that Korianka was all right.

XxXXxX

A/N: Woot! Excitement for the upcoming chapters! We're gettin' down to crunch time…


	17. Damned Irony!

Korianka struggled against her bonds, her face reddening with the strain. She let out a heavy breath and relaxed to gather more strength. She seemed to be fastened into some kind of cocoon with thick slimy tendrils of fiber holding her in place. Maguire was in the cocoon on her right, struggling to escape. The villager Alvis was on her left, softly crying to himself.

The surrounding area was dark and damp—probably some kind of cave. Three tunnels branched from this chamber. A single lantern hung from the ceiling, giving off an eerie blue light.

Korianka's eyes widened after they had adjusted to the wan light. The corpses of three men in SGA uniforms lay in a heap in a secluded corner of the cave, but they were old—much too old. Could they have been the last of the rescue team, brought here first because they were the last to be captured? Korianka shuddered. Their eyes were wide open, mirroring the anguish they suffered in their final moments. It must have been the effect of the Wraith feeding; she had never seen it before. She feared she would soon share their fate if she couldn't escape in time.

She had come here to rescue Rodney. It seemed now that she was the one in need of rescuing. Damn irony.

Footsteps echoed in the damp air. Korianka held her breath. Three Wraith entered the chamber; one was slender and the other two brawny and masked.

The slender one approached her, barely making any noise against the ground. He wore a long black leather coat that contrasted sharply with the straight white hair that fell about his shoulders. His blue skin glistened as if it was wet. In a strange and yet natural way, he was quite beautiful. Korianka hardly noticed her mind falling into a trance as his yellow eyes locked with hers. All fear seemed to slip away into oblivion as he traced her face with a long bony finger.

Suddenly, Maguire's screams yanked her back into reality. She hazarded a glance his way and saw the Wraith drone sucking the very life from his body. He convulsed violently and tried to scream some more, but the screams only came out in heavy gasps.

Her Wraith grabbed hold of her chin and forced her to look into his eyes again, but this time, she didn't want to. She couldn't stand the feel of his slimy skin or his earthy stench. He growled low in his throat and slammed his palm onto her chest, almost cracking her sternum. She cried out and arched her spine against the cocoon. Stars exploded in front of her eyes as the Wraith tore her very soul from her body.

After a few agonizing seconds, he withdrew his hand, leaving a bleeding gash on her exposed chest; she was still alive. "You are strong," he whispered huskily against her sweaty face. "I will take the rest of you piece by piece." He stepped back and dismissed his drones. Maguire and Alvis were already dead.

Korianka hung her head and drew in weak breaths. Fatigue set into her muscles as if she had been training for a week with no rest. Why couldn't the Wraith just finish her off now? He was playing with her so she would die slowly.

The Wraith approached her again, his yellow eyes lusty with hunger. He pressed his hand on her chest, this time a little more gently. He growled deep within his throat with pleasure and satisfaction, while Korianka screwed her eyes shut against the pain. She thought of Rodney and wished she would have been a better wife to him. She had failed in her vows. Tears fell down her cheeks as she wept silently to herself.

She had given up.

The Wraith pulled back again and took a deep breath of satisfaction. Suddenly, his expression soured. He sniffed the air and spat. Several gunshots echoed from one of the tunnels. The Wraith summoned his drones as the sound of gunfire neared the cavern.

"Korianka!" a voice called from the tunnel.

Korianka was so dumbstruck she almost forgot to answer. She blinked with recognition and cried a bit hoarsely, "Rodney! I am here!"

Her husband leaped into the cavern, followed by Ronan and Teyla. The slender Wraith inconspicuously retreated back to Korianka's cocoon to let the drones handle the intruders; he was ready to finish his feeding.

"Rodney!" Korianka screamed as the Wraith approached her. Without a second glance, Rodney launched himself at the Wraith, tackling him to the ground. He grasped the Wraith by the lapels and struck him several times in the face. Korianka was quite impressed with this sudden display of aggression.

The Wraith, however, was not impressed. He rammed his knee into Rodney's side and tossed him away like one would a rag doll. Before the Wraith could regain his footing, however, Rodney shot him full of P-90 rounds. Rodney lay on the ground for a moment, breathing hard and his firearm smoking.

"Are you all right, Rodney? Good." Teyla said with urgency. "We need to go before the rest know we are here."

With Ronan's assistance, Rodney removed Korianka from the slimy cocoon and offered his shoulder for support as they fled the caves. The foliage outside was dense and damp, and the sky had grown dark. Korianka's foot slammed into a tree root, sending both of them face-first into the cakey mud.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she moaned.

"This just isn't my day," Rodney muttered. "Damn it, I need a candy bar."

"I don't think now is the best time for sweets, Rodney," Korianka said as she gingerly rolled over and sat up. Her entire front was covered with mud. Even her cheeks were streaked with the stuff. "I think we've lost Teyla and Ronan."

"No, you don't understand! I'm gonna have a hypoglycemic reaction if I don't eat anything soon," Rodney replied, slightly exasperated; then he remembered that she didn't know anything about hypoglycemia. "And that's not good," he added quietly and sat up next to her.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Korianka asked.

Rodney shook his head and tapped his radio. "McKay to Colonel Sheppard."

_Hey, Rodney,_ Sheppard replied. _You all right?_

"Me and Korianka got separated from Teyla and Ronan. Can you come get us?"

_On my way. Sheppard out._

"How is he going to do that?" Korianka asked, knitting her eyebrows together. "The jumpers are on the other side of the biosphere."

Rodney slowly got to his feet, shutting his eyes to quell the sudden dizziness, and pulled Korianka up beside him with an arm wrapped around her waist for support. "Sheppard's got the Wraith dart. He can pick us up with the culling beam...if it still works."

Korianka nodded, but was slightly skeptical. "Right. Of course," she said.

There was a loud rustling in the large leaves behind them. Rodney pivoted and pointed his firearm to the sound, but it didn't come again. The surrounding air became eerily quiet. "Let's go," Rodney whispered. He faced forward again and started walking as fast as Korianka's limp would let him go.

A blue energy blast whistled through the air and struck Korianka from behind before Rodney could react. He almost toppled over when her body went limp from the stunner blast. After a few choice profanities, he slung Korianka over his shoulder and fired his P-90 behind him as he broke into a run, red-faced and wheezing all the while.

After barely thirty seconds had passed, Rodney collapsed in the dirt and panted for his life. He knew he was out of shape, but this was ridiculous. Maybe he should consider more training with Ronan. Yeah, fat chance.

He held onto his weapon with a weak hand and silently prayed that Sheppard would hurry up. A faint whizzing noise in the sky above allayed his anxiety. He smiled and lay down next to Korianka as the culling beam swept them up into the dart.

XxXxXX

A/N: Last few chapters coming up next. I'm so excited that I'm almost finished!


	18. One Life Ends, Another Begins

The next day…

"Doctor Beckett says I can leave the infirmary this afternoon," Korianka said as she sat in bed in the infirmary with a tray of food on her lap. She was wearing a white hospital gown, and her face had been cleaned of mud. Her brown hair, however, was still in a frizzy braid. "How about you?" she asked. "Do you feel better?"

Rodney was sitting in a chair next to her bed, wearing a blue jumpsuit with a Stargate patch on the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replied with a slightly crooked smile. His eyes unconsciously rested on the stitched-up scar under her collarbone.

Korianka followed his eyes. "It'll heal quickly, but Doctor Beckett says the Wraith took away about ten years of my life," she said with a sigh.

"So how old would that make you now?"

She shrugged. "I was born almost nineteen years ago, but my body is around twenty-eight, give or take a few years."

"Do your people usually get married that young?" Rodney asked with a quirked eyebrow. He hardly wanted to imagine the things Jeannie would be saying to him right now.

"It is quite customary," Korianka replied after taking a bite of her turkey sandwich.

Rodney nodded and stood. "I guess I'll let you rest some more."

As he was about to pass into the corridor, Korianka called to him, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around and watched as Korianka hastily set her tray down, slid out of the bed, and limped quickly toward him. Her sprained ankle had been wrapped with a tan bandage. She stopped merely inches from him, seemingly uncertain of what she should do next. After a curt nod of resolution, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

It took Rodney several seconds to come out of his initial shock. But by the time he decided to kiss her in return, she had pulled away and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Thank you for coming for me," she whispered.

"No problem," Rodney gulped. _Yeah, real smooth, Rodney._ He cautiously wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "I'll come get you for dinner, okay?"

Korianka nodded and withdrew from him to watch him leave. She walked away from the door and sat on the edge of her bed, slightly short of breath. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Rodney's courage back on the planet just goes to prove how wrong she had been about him. She was glad she knew it now.

Korianka had been given a unique opportunity. This was the start of a new life, a life she previously had been unwilling to accept. What a fool she had been, wallowing in self-pity over the things she had lost. It was time to stop denying herself and take full advantage of the new life she has gained on Atlantis as Korianka McKay.

XxxXxxX

A/N: This is the last chapter! I have the sudden urge to eat chocolate in celebration of this landmark event. I am still open to critique, though—anything you think would make this story better or more complete. Much thanks to all of my reviewers! Your encouragement and critique is much appreciated and needed for this budding fanfic author. And keep your eyes open for a sequel!

_"Life is an awfully big adventure." --Peter Pan from _Hook

The End.


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